


Taking a Break? Don't Know Them!

by phoenix_lix



Category: ATEEZ (Band), Multi-Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Choi San, Bullying, Dancer Choi San, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fainting, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury, Injury Recovery, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overworking, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Recovery, Smut, Texting, Top Park Seonghwa, but like the pg-13 version, maybe? - Freeform, producer kim hongjoong, still gonna be pg-13 for the kids reading this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 33,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_lix/pseuds/phoenix_lix
Summary: Choi San is dealing with a lot. After being essentially disowned by his parents, he finds love. But he also finds pain. From bullies, from the voices chanting within himself that he's not good enough. And from the people apparently targeting him and his boyfriend for no reason other than corporate bullshit. Oh, and he's preparing to take over a dance studio.So yeah, Choi San is dealing with a lot. But Seonghwa might make things just a bit better.(This is my first fic on AO3 and I'm really sorry for the crappy summary!)
Relationships: Choi San/Park Seonghwa, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. Welcome to Treasure High

**Author's Note:**

> I know there's probably no one that would want to read this, but if you did decide to, thank you! This is my first fic on here. It mainly focuses on Ateez (particuarly Sanhwa), but there's a TON of appearances by other groups and soloists in here.

I don’t know what I thought my sophomore year of high school would be like, but I definitely wasn’t planning on seeing Yeosang pour a can of Red Bull into his thermos of coffee and drink it all in three gulps right before our chemistry midterm review started.

I definitely didn’t think that my immediate reaction would be, God, I need to try that and see if it works.

And that is why I’m sitting on my bed at 3 AM surrounded by cups full of various energy drink combinations, jittering as I work through my homework at three times my normal speed. 

Everyone, welcome to the hellhole veiled as education that we call high school. 

\--------------------------------------------------

As soon as I walk through the doors the next morning, I’m immediately greeted with my mom-friends being overbearing as usual. “Yah, Choi San! Why do you look so tired? Are you getting sick? Do you need to go home? Did you take medici-” 

“Seonghwa hyung, I’m fine!” I cut off Seonghwa hyung’s fussing with a chuckle. “Too many all-nighters I guess, but I was doing an experiment with caffeine last night and it couldn’t wait.”

“You absolute idiot… I swear, one of these days I’m going to find gray hair from you kids being insufferable shits…”

“You love us though, hyung~” I coo, darting out of reach as Seonghwa lunges at me with an indignant squawk. 

This day started off well. Hopefully ,it’ll stay like that. That may be the caffeine talking, though. 

I’m about to walk into my science class when a hand fists in the back of my shirt, pushing me face first into a locker before I can even attempt to shield myself. “Hey nerd, why are you so early every day? You must be such a teacher’s pet, huh?” 

Yeah, it was just the caffeine.

“Fuck off, Daehyun.” I growl, trying to push myself away. It doesn’t work, though. I may be strong from dance, but these guys all have at least four inches on me and do a variety of sports. Whenever they try to pick on me, it usually doesn’t go well. For me, at least. 

“Oh? Did you forget how easily I can hurt you, Sannie?” A hand grabs my wrist bruisingly, twisting it enough that tears spring to my eyes against my will. “That’s what I thought. Cry all you want, pretty boy, no one’s going to stop us from doing whatever we want to do.” 

“Just fuck off, I have to get to class and so do you,” I try so damn hard to keep my voice steady, even as Daehyun twists my wrist further, whispering insults in my ear until the warning bell finally rings and he scampers off to his class.

I sigh as I walk into chemistry, investigating my wrist. It’s definitely going to leave a mark. That’s just another bruise to hide from my hyungs. I won’t be able to practice stunts for a while on this hand, but it should be fine eventually.

Yeosang glances at me as I slide into the seat next to him and take out my notebook. “You okay, Sannie? You look a bit worse for wear, dude. Maybe you should skip dance tonight, I can cover for you.” he whispers as our teacher, Mrs. Park, drones on about Boyle’s Law. I simply nod, not trusting my voice over the throbbing in my wrist. At least it wasn’t my dominant hand that Daehyun twisted. Yeosang looks at me skeptically, eyeing my pale face and dark circles before turning back to his own notes. 

Yeosang’s been my best friend since first grade. He joined KQ Dance Academy barely two months after me. I can trust him with anything, and I think he’s beginning to suspect something’s up with me, but he’s too gullible. It’s easy for me to lie about what’s going on. I mean, I could report Daehyun and the others, but it’s a lot easier to stay quiet and not draw attention. I’d probably be brushed off as another attention-seeker or some shit. Just excel in class and make mom and dad proud once they finally come home. 

Yeah, life is totally going my way.


	2. I Can't Handle It Anymore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for graphic violence (bullying) and a homophobic slur

“Hey, pretty boy. We have a favor to ask of you.” I know they’re not asking, but I sigh and turn around to face Daehyun for the second time today. “Make it quick. I have to go study.”

“I’ll ignore your attitude if you do this for us.” I raise a brow. Normally, I would be meeting a locker or a fist right now. They must be desperate if they’re so lenient, especially around midterms when they take out their stress and shitty grades on me. Especially since there’s no one in this corridor right now.

“Look, the entire school knows you’re gay. One of my… acquaintances doesn’t want anyone to know, but he is too. Make, I don’t know, make him happy or some shit, and we’ll stop bothering you for a while.” Daehyun looks distressed, running a hand through his hair in agitation. 

“So, what, you want me to have sex with him or some shit and then you’ll back off?” I ask, ignoring the disgusted expression on Daehyun’s friends’ faces. But Daehyun nods, and a billion thoughts run through my head. The chances of them actually backing off are pretty low. Then again, if they do back off, I would be able to focus on finals and midterms way more. But I can’t do that, I can’t just have sex with no reason. 

“No. I can’t. I’m demi. I’m not just going to have a one-night stand.” Daehyun’s face shifts to one of amusement. “Alright, Sannie. We won’t lay off then. We’ll just hurt you enough to teach you a lesson.” Before I can run, Daehyun’s cronies grab my arms and begin dragging me out of school, even as I kick at them. I don’t have the right leverage to kick them in places it would actually hurt, but shins are the next best bet. 

They ignore my attempts to dislodge myself, dropping me in an alley adjacent to the school. I rack my mind for anything that could get me out of this. I have dance tonight, and homework, and I have so much stuff to do. This is going to screw me over in a multitude of ways. “Please don’t do this, Daehyun. What happened to being friends in all of elementary and middle school, are you just going to ignore this to make one of your friends hap-”

“Don’t you DARE talk about our past, San. You mean nothing to me. Just another know-it-all fag.” That hits me almost as hard as the punch that drops me to my knees. And the hits that rain over everything that can be hidden under a shirt and long pants. They gag me at some point so I can’t scream for anyone. 

By the time I’m choking on my blood from a particularly harsh set of kicks to my ribs, I’m literally sobbing. I remember the kid that saved me from almost drowning when I got kicked into a river and couldn’t swim, who’d play with me and sit with me at lunch when no one else did. And now he’s doing this. I’m slammed around and knocked up so much that I can barely tell what’s happening.

But eventually they leave, just as the sun begins to set. I drag myself to the wall, propping myself against it as I reach around for my phone. Fuck, my head hurts. I let the phone fall as soon as I tap the little call button next to Yeosang’s name. His cheerful voice worsens my headache, it’s so fucking loud.

“Hey Sannie, are you coming to dance today, we’re warming up a bit ear-”

“You’re being too fucking loud, Yeosangie.” 

“Wha- San? Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“I’m by the school, in the alley. Please help me.” It’s barely a whisper, but I know Yeosang hears it, because now he sounds like he’s running, a horde of feet following him.

“I’m coming, Sannie, the rest of the team is coming too. Hold on, please. Can you stay awake for me?”

“Just wanna sleep, ‘Sangie…”

“No, Sannie, please stay awake. Can you tell me what happened?” Staying up is so much work. I don’t understand why I need to stay awake when it would be so much easier to just sleep and give my mind a break. 

“‘Hyunnie- his crew- they- they beat me up, Yeosangie… but ‘s okay, I probably deserved it. I think I hit my head, though, everything’s fuzzy.”

Yeosang’s sharp intake of breath and faint “oh god” floats through my mind, even as my vision goes fuzzy. “San, please stay awake. I called an ambulance, I’m about to round the corner. Don’t sleep, just stay there and stay awake, alright?” 

The call cuts off as I see a few people sprint into the alley, more following right behind them. “SAN!” I hear several screams as my entire team surrounds me, Yeosang catching me as my body goes numb and I slump sideways.

“‘Sangie, ‘m goin’ to sleep, ‘kay? Tell the team ‘ll be late to practice, ‘m tired.” I murmur sleepily.

“No, San, plea-”


	3. I Thought I Was Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW flashback to graphic violence, panic attacks

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ “No, it’s too early for school.” I mutter, stretching out a hand to turn off my alarm, when I feel something pull back on my arm and open my eyes properly.

Shit, this is a hospital.

Yeosang is napping on my shin, tipped forward out of his chair and snoring lightly. An IV is hooked into the back of my right hand, cannula under my nose. I’m swamped in bandages and swaddled in blankets. As I look around the rest of the room, I notice Hongjoong hyung and Seonghwa hyung sleeping on each other’s shoulders in a chair near the door, and Jongho resting his head on the windowsill opposite my bed.

“Sangie?” I whisper, shaking him lightly with my foot. His eyes open, and he blinks at me drowsily before realizing I’m awake. 

“Shit, San, you’re up!” Yeosang slams the button on one of the machines as he attempts to hug me without hurting my ribs. My other three friends wake up as well, smiling at me when they see I’m up.

“What work did I miss at school?” is the first question out of my mouth once the doctor removes my cannula and IV, causing Hongjoong to snort. 

“There’s gotta be something wrong with the school system if the first thing you’re worrying about is school. Focus on recovering, kid. You didn’t miss much, anyway.” he tells me, and I relax slightly. 

Jongho chimes in, “Midterms got cancelled for everyone who has a 4.0 GPA or higher, which I find really stupid, but it gives you more time to recover since your GPA is godly, hyung.”

I nod, some of my tension relieved. “When can I dance?” I blurt out. 

My gut sinks when I see Yeosang and Seonghwa share a worried glance. Seonghwa sighs and just tells me, “San, you bruised a couple ribs, a severely sprained ACL, and a mild concussion, not to mention the bruising literally all over you and your sprained ankle. It might be a while. The doctors are saying it would normally take at least two months, but-” 

Seonghwa hyung is cut off by a sob that slips out before I can stop it. “Two whole- two fucking months? It’s the beginning of December, hyung, the major qualifiers are all going to be over in March, I can’t be benched that long. Hyung, that can’t be true, please tell me it’s not true. Yeosangie, Hongjoong hyung, Seonghwa hyung, it’s not true, please-”

“Hey, hey, kiddo, please calm down. Let Seonghwa finish what he was going to say.” Hongjoong sits on the side of my bed, gently carding his fingers through my hair as he offers me a tissue and I try to get my breathing under control.

Seonghwa continues where he left off, “Sannie, they said it would take two months normally. But since you’re a dancer and you’re really healthy- don’t scoff at me, even if you don’t think you are, you’re healthy from a medical perspective- it should take less time. They’re thinking your concussion will be gone in a week or so, because it’s not too severe. The sprain will heal in a couple weeks, and your ribs should heal around that time as well. The bruises, they’ll mostly fade before then. Your ACL is a severe sprain, but it’s not a tear, so it’ll heal faster. It might be kind of sore and hard to dance on for a month, but you can at least compete, even if you can’t clock your normal hours. So, even giving a bit of leeway, you should heal in a month, Sannie.” 

I guess a month is better than two, at least I won’t miss the super packed part. And for the end of the month, I can at least help with choreography and stuff. “Fine,” I mutter, flopping back onto my pillows. 

“How long am I going to be here, hyungs? I want to leave.” Another of those glances between Seonghwa hyung and Yeosang as Jongho leaves the room quickly.

“Um, about that… Jongho’s grabbing your discharge papers right now, but we’ve been thinking about where you’re going to go.” Hongjoong sounds… hesitant?

Confusion overtakes me, and I cock my head to the side. “Hyung, I’ll just go home.”

“Uh, your dad-” Yeosang stutters before looking away in discomfort. Seonghwa immediately moves over to him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace. Hongjoong sighs.

“Kiddo, your parents were here when you were still out of it. Your dad paid for your entire hospital expense, but he- well, you told your parents you were gay. I don’t know how, you must’ve still been drugged to hell…”

Shit. Appa and Eomma found out. They’re going to kill me.

“All they said was, and I quote, ‘when he wakes up, tell him to get his stuff from our house and leave. We won’t hurt him, some of you can come with him if you want, but I won’t have a- a-’” Hongjoong chokes off quickly. “I’m not going to say what he said after that, but the baseline is that your parents want you out. We’ve all been thinking, and Seonghwa and I have already moved out of our parents’ for the same reason. You can move in with us, or Yeosang’s mom said she’s okay taking you in.”

I’m hearing everything hyung says, but it’s as though I’m underwater.

“Sannie? San? Please say something, are you okay?” Seonghwa hyung comes near me to hold my hand, squeezing reassuringly, but the only words I can force out are, “They- they know?” It’s barely a whisper, and my voice cracks at the end as tears begin to bud at the corners of my eyes. 

“Shh, Sannie, it’s going to be okay, trust me, we’re all here for you. We know how hard it is, but it’s going to be alright in the end.” Yeosang sits at the foot of my bed, a hand on my ankle.

“B-but Appa and Eomma-”

“Sannie, it’s not easy, I know. But you have options. The doctor said you should stay with Joong and I until you’re healed so we can keep an eye on you, then you can move in with us permanently or with Yeosangie, okay?”

I sniffle miserably. I don’t know how to process everything properly right now. “I’ll stay with you guys, if it’s not too much trouble.” 

Jongho makes a convenient re-appearance, shoving papers into my arms as a doctor follows him in and hands my hyungs a ton of stuff. From here, I can see crutches (my mortal enemy), and a bag full of bandages and cleaning things. There are probably also painkillers somewhere in there. 

“San, are you ready to go? You need a hoodie or anything?” Hongjoong hyung hands me my crutches as I give the doctor my signed papers.

“I’m good, I’ll be fine with just my coat, so let’s head out.” I’m wobbly on the crutches, but I’ve been on them before, so it’s okay.

Jongho is trailing behind me as I limp out, and I know its because he’s waiting to catch me if I trip backwards. Seonghwa and Hongjoong hyungs are both carrying my stuff, and Yeosang is chatting off my ear, probably trying to distract me from the mild pain in my ribs every time I breathe. I zone out, focused on the mechanical sound of crutches hitting the floor until Seonghwa hyung taps my shoulder gently and I flinch, stumbling a bit into Jongho’s arms as my head begins spinning again. 

“Sorry Sannie, we were just wondering if you wanted to go pick up your stuff from your parents or if you want to go to our house, and then Jongho, Yeosang, and Hongjoong can grab your stuff for you,” he says, a slight smiling crinkling the edges of his eyes. I close my eyes for a long moment, contemplating whether I can endure the pain of going back to my parents’ house. 

I breathe in, then out, and look to Yeosang for comfort. He gives me an encouraging nod, so I say, “Hyung, I want to go get my stuff.” Hongjoong hyung nods absentmindedly as he puts my address into his GPS and Jongho puts my crutches in the trunk. 

Yeosang grabs my hand, helping me into the back seat so I can stretch out my leg a bit more and lie on his lap. I hear the car rumble to life as my eyes begin to close against my own will. 

Seonghwa hyung chuckles from his place in the shotgun. “You must be tired, huh, Sannie? You’ve had a long few days, you can relax until we get there.” I finally allow my eyes to slip close and go off to dreamland.

_Burning on my ribs, in my knee. My face throbs, particularly near my right eye where Daehyun managed to land a hard enough punch that my face split open._

_“Didn’t listen to us, huh, Sannie?” He says the nickname tauntingly, destroying the love I feel for my friends whenever I’m called that. I gasp as another kick lands strong on my wrist, and I feel something move in a way that it most certainly should not._

_“You. Are. Nothing.” One of his cronies punctuates every word with a punch, and then Daehyun motions them back._

_“Insoo, Sang-ah, hold his arms and get him up.” Without warning, I’m wrenched from my position on the floor, held against the wall in a bruising grip on my biceps. Daehyun winds up his fist before throwing it straight into my nose, knocking my head back painfully against the wall. Blood drips into my mouth, and I can’t wipe it away because of course they’re going to make me choke on my own blood. Gasping, I recover just in time to see stars as his crony lands a punch in the exact same place._

_“P-please stop, I’ll do anything, Daehyun, please-” I beg, spitting out a mouthful of blood._

_He grins cruelly, nonchalantly flicking his switchblade open and taking a step towards me. I begin to struggle even more then, as he motions to his gang to turn me around and presses the blade into the skin over my shoulder blade._

_“Let this be a reminder, idiot,” he snarls, tracing some pattern that cuts into my flesh as I scream loud enough that some pigeons fly away nearby, tears mixing with the blood already on my face. Then, they drop me and sprint away laughing as I slump over, begging for someone, anyone to come save me from this torture._

“-nnie. Sannie! San, come on, wake up, it’s just a nightmare, you’re okay, you’re okay, I promise it’s over,” figures swim in and out of my vision above me, and I blink more as the roof of a car comes into view. The soft fabric of Yeosang’s sweatpants pillows my head as I wipe tears out of the corners of my eyes. I can hear Seonghwa hyung whispering comforting words in my ears, sounding three seconds away from crying himself. He repeats the words “you’re okay, it’s over now” like a mantra, cradling my hand in his. 

“H-hyung, it’s okay, I’m fine,” I croak out, rubbing my thumb over the back of his hand. He seems more frantic than I am. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, you just weren’t waking up, and I’ve been in your place, Hongjoongie has too, and I didn’t want to think about you even going through the same thing because it sucks,” he murmurs, squeezing my hand lightly 

“Anyway, we’re here if you’re ready to go in,” Hongjoong breaks in, and it's then that I realize everyone else is still here, minus Jongho, who’s already gone in to go check that my parents aren’t home.

Yeosang hands me my crutches as I slowly swing my legs over the side of the car. “Thanks,” I mutter, limping up to my front door. Or, I guess, my parents’ front door.

“Eomma? Appa?” I call cautiously before Jongho comes up to me holding a note.

 _We’ll be out until Saturday. Get your stuff out by then, or we’ll throw it out._ the note reads, shaking in my hands as reality finally hits. I drop it as though burned, balancing on my crutches as I pull my hair, delving into sobs. All I need is one more small hit, one more tap against the glass before the wall shatters.

“Sannie, you okay?”

_“Didn’t listen to us, huh, Sannie?”_

“N-no, hyung please stop calling me that, please stop, I can’t-” 

Yeosang’s smooth voice runs over my ears like honey as I panic. “San, breathe, ok? You need to breathe, we can go back to Hongjoong hyung’s if it's too much here. You’re so strong, I promise, just breathe.”

It’s no use though, I can’t breathe, and I can’t pull myself out of this, or stop panicking, or anything. There’s just no way for me to calm down. I vaguely register a hard surface beneath my knees before fire ignites along my leg and I whimper, trying to move to alleviate this pain on my knee. Someone jostles my ribs as I’m picked up, forcing another broken noise of pain out of my mouth against my will. 

“San, we’re going home, okay? The others can handle your stuff, and if we forget anything you can tell us and we’ll come back.” Seonghwa hyung’s voice blankets my senses, allowing me to focus a little more as he carries me back into the car. I whine at the loss of contact as he sets me down in the back, flushing red but too out of it to worry about censoring myself.

“It’s okay, just focus on breathing for now, okay?” he says, turning the key and beginning to drive away.

“Hyung, my knee hurts a bit,” I slur, exhausted.

“I’ll give you some painkillers at home, I think it’s been long enough since we left the hospital.”

“‘K thanks hyungie, ‘m gonna sleep.” I shut my eyes after hyung’s hum of affirmation, but sleep doesn’t come. I lay there, listening to Seonghwa humming along to the radio for the 30 minutes it takes to get back to the hyungs’ apartment.


	4. Finding Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg no TWs? did i finally manage to write an angst-less chapter???

“San, we’re here, wake up,” Seonghwa hyung cards his fingers through my hair while I stretch and get up. I’m more wobbly than normal on my crutches, bone-deep exhaustion and the numbing weight on my chest making it hard for me to focus. Thankfully, their complex has an elevator, so I lean on hyung as we go up to the thirty-seventh floor. I’ve never actually been to their apartment, but the complex itself looks airy and modern, and I’m pretty sure I spotted a gym downstairs, so I think it’ll be pretty nice.

Of course, nothing could have prepared me for the fact that Seonghwa and Hongjoong hyungs literally have the _penthouse_. It’s clean and contemporary, dominated by white, black, and blue, with a large sliding glass door opening out to a balcony across the double story living room. To my left, there’s what I think is a bathroom at the end of a corridor, as well as a metal staircase that leads up to the second floor, which is more like a large loft with a few partitioned rooms. Meanwhile to my right, I can see a huge kitchen and hallway leading back to what I assume are bedrooms. 

“S-seonghwa hyung, you forgot to mention that you own the penthouse! It’s so… so big! And pretty!” he chuckles at my awed face, hanging both his and my jackets on hooks and exchanging shoes for slippers while waiting for me to finish toeing off my slip-ons. 

Hyung gestures to each place as he explains, “The stairs might be a bit hard with your crutches, but Hongjoong’s room and studio are up there, so you probably won’t have to worry about that much, bathroom’s on the left and there’s also one in your room probably, and you can take any of the rooms down either corridor except the room I’m in. In the left hallway, there’s a dance studio, a storage room, and some more bedrooms. And then the kitchen, living room, and balcony, obviously.”

I’m still left gaping. “How do you and Hongjoongie hyung even afford this?”

Seonghwa hyung giggles, and it’s so fucking cute. _San, you did not just think that._ I think angrily to myself. “Dude, I just have a really well-paying internship in addition to my part-time job, and Hongjoong gets royalties from his work at his recording company and his part-time. We work a lot but it’s all worth it.” Sometimes, I wish it were possible to verbally keysmash. 

“Now come on, you can pick a bedroom before everyone comes in here with your stuff.” I follow him along obediently, nixing three of the louder-colored rooms before we come to a light lavender room with a carpet that I can sink my toes into. It smells really nice too, almost like the smell embodiment of those winter days where you’re sitting in your bed curled up with a cup of hot cocoa and a good book. Unfortunately, it’s occupied. “Yeah, so, uh, this is my room. Just thought I’d show you so you knew.” Seonghwa hyung awkwardly says, closing the door as we keep walking. I don’t like any of the rest of the rooms in this corridor, and I apologize softly as Seonghwa hyungs smiles equally as softly back, ruffling my hair and moving out of the corridor wordlessly.

“San, it’s okay, if you’re staying here, you should be comfortable. Besides, we have a ton of rooms, don’t feel bad,” he reassures me as we open the door to the first bedroom in the other corridor. This one’s not bad, better than the other corridor, but it still doesn’t feel right. We go through three other doors, Seonghwa hyung shows me the next bedroom, and the next, and the dance studio, then the second to last bedroom. But when we get to the last one, my hopes have been absolutely destroyed. _Maybe I’ll settle for the first bedroom_ , I think, but I peak inside this room and I’m entranced.

“Hyung, can I have this one?” It seems that he was expecting it, because he nods again, squeezing my shoulder gently. 

Let me explain exactly what’s so nice about this room. It has light-colored hardwood floors, but they’re covered by a plush carpet for the most part. The walls are a clean and fresh white, with a huge window making up the two exterior walls since this is the corner room. To make everything better, it has a pretty big reading nook decorated with shades of blue and purples in the corner about halfway up the wall with a short pull down ladder on the side. Under that is a huge bookshelf headboard, a fluffy-looking bed coming out from the junction of the two walls. Not to mention it’s really close to the dance studio. 

“San, you hungry? I can make something before Joong and the rest get back, or we can just get pizza and everyone can stay for a movie night or something?” 

“I’m only a little bit hungry, hyung, you don’t have to make something for me, but maybe we can order pizza for the others when they come?” A sudden feeling of… guilt? overtakes me out of nowhere, and I’m left remembering that I won’t be in shape if I eat a ton since I can’t dance. My stomach growls loudly, though, and Seonghwa hyung gives me a pointed glance.  
I’ve noticed that within his own home, he nags less verbally and he’s just generally quieter, which is interesting, but he’s also more keen on touch. 

“Alright, I’ll order pizza, but you’re eating some when it comes,” he relents after I look down at my socks, shifting between holding my weight on one leg and on my crutches. My arms are starting to get tired from using crutches all day, but I push through it, enduring the pain of the chafing against my bare arms with just a slight hiss. Maybe I should have taken a hoodie when Joong hyung offered it… Nonetheless, I limp into the living room and flop on the couch, grabbing my airpods and phone out of the pocket of my pants. 

The relaxing melody of The Village soars through my ears and I close my eyes, humming along lightly. After that, another song plays. Another. Another. I allow myself to get lost in the music until I hear the door open and shoot up, pressing a hand to my ribs when they protest at the sudden movement. I take an earbud out, still playing music but tuning into Yeo, Jongho, and Joong hyung bringing stuff in. I feel bad all of a sudden, and get up, grabbing my crutches from their place on the floor. 

“Hey guys, do you need any help bringing stuff in?” I offer, confused at the glances they give me. Yeo steps forward first.

“San, you’re injured, we’re not going to ask you to do that, it’s okay. Just relax, go lie back down. Seonghwa hyung can help us,” he explains, ruffling my hair into place from where it was sticking up on a side.

Grumpily, I turn back to the couch, dramatically falling onto it once again. “I’m all aloooooooneeeeeeee,” I wail loudly, beginning to giggle at the end of it as I put my other earbud in and hear Paramore blaring in my ear. Talk about a mood change.

“Who’s hurting my child?” I hear Hwa hyung walk in, making playful conversation with everyone else. “The pizza will be here soon, by the way, we were thinking you guys could stay for a movie if you want,” he lowers his voice, and I shut off my music to listen, a sinking feeling rising in my gut. “Sannie’s going to get mad if he hears that you all got yelled at for missing school, but you all have to promise to start catching up on the homework you missed in the hospital soon. I know you were worried about him, but the teachers will only let us all put it off for a little while longer before they get mad.”

I rocket up again, tears already beading in my eyes. “Why would you guys do that?! You could’ve gone to school, I wasn’t going anywhere while I was unconscious! Now the teachers are mad, and it’s all my fault. They’re probably mad at me too…” I trail off as I realize I’ve missed like three days of school work at least. “Shit…”

“Language, San, and besides, we care for you, okay? I’d rather be yelled at than leave you alone in a hospital!” Hongjoong hyung counters, handing off his box to Jongho and walking over to me, hugging me tightly. “We- we were scared, San,” he murmurs in my hair, and in that moment I don’t really care that his arms are rubbing against the bandages on my back, or that this is an awkward angle. I lean into the touch, breathing deeply and wiping tears away for the third or fourth time today. 

“We all love you, San,” Yeosang adds, coming around the couch.  
“Yah, are you leaving me with all the boxes, hyungs?” Jongho cries from behind, causing us all to giggle.

“Jongho, you can handle it, right, my bedroom is the one at the end of the left corridor. Or I guess, right corridor, it depends on how you look at it. Either way, it’s the corridor near the stairs,” I explain, and Joong hyung looks at me softly as Jongho trudges off.

“I knew you’d like that room,” he states gently, pressing his cheek into my hair. 

“Ew hyung, what are you doing?” I roll my eyes, pushing his face away, but we both know I appreciate the comfort. 

“Gay,” Yeo whispers from the side and I flush, spluttering as Hongjoong hyung rockets off of my hair. 

“I’m pan, I’ll have you know!” Hyung buts in indignantly, while I shake my hair out.

“I’m full homo but not for our dad friend, that's weird!” I sputter, rolling over to hide my flushed ears in the couch cushions.

“But for our mom friend?” He whispers, giving a knowing glance at Seonghwa hyung. Suddenly a sickening feeling hits me. I remember Hongjoong hyung telling my what my parents said to them. 

“I’m not,” I whisper back, the mood dampening as I move to stand up and help Jongho put stuff away in my room. Little issue. I forgot that my knee is in a brace and I can’t just stand up. 

“San!” Yeo yells as my knee buckles, nearly sending me crashing to the floor, but I stabilize myself, planting my hands on the coffee table and gritting my teeth as waves of pain waft up and down my knee. I shove the pain down, hopping for my crutches and limping away to the room Seonghwa hyung is letting me stay in. Or, I guess it’s just my room now.

“What happened?” I can hear Seonghwa hyung ask, and the conversation fades as I walk further down the hallway. 

Shrugging open the door with my arm, Jongho gives me a once over before returning to putting my dance trophies on one of the shelves. “You might not have many shelves left empty for other stuff if you want to display all of these, hyung,” he says by way of greeting. That’s one thing I always have loved about him; he doesn’t bother with the nagging and worry. He knows I’ll talk to him when I want to. 

“That’s fine, I don’t have many mementos to put on the shelves anyway beyond the trophies,” I reply, grabbing my backpack from where it rests on the floor. I shoulder it before dropping it near the corner table holding my school stuff. As I limp around the room, setting stuff down and memorizing the layout and steps it takes to go from the door to the bed, bed to bathroom, and bathroom to closet, I realize that the bed has the perfect view of the Seoul skyline. “I’m going to go grab the rest of the boxes and get the rest to help me, everything’s done at this point except your dance stuff, blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, and that kind of thing.” He leaves quietly as I grab a book and try to figure out how to get up to the nook without dying.

I’m a quarter of the way through my book when I hear Hwa hyung call my name to come and eat. But I’m comfy and half asleep, so I just snuggle deeper into the nest of blankets I’ve created, feeling the novel fall out of my hands as my eyes begin to droop, a playlist of soft NCT songs playing on a speaker as I fall asleep again.


	5. The Start of the Gay Crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW implied/referenced bullying and child abuse (no actual scenes with it, it's just remembering stuff)

The next time I wake up, it's because my ribs are throbbing. The pain in my knee registers second. It’s dark outside, and the soft hallway light floods through a crack in my door, and I can hear quiet chattering coming from what I assume is the living room, but it’s honestly probably not that quiet if I can hear it from here. Taking into account my leg and ribs, I don’t think I can actually get down.

“Hwa hyung?” I call, but the talking continues. The lights of the city provide enough illumination to see where my phone is, but getting to it will require getting up and I really don’t want to do that because this _really_ hurts. I probably shouldn’t have fallen asleep like this, not to mention that the painkillers they gave me at the hospital have stopped working by now.

“Hwa hyung!” I shout, but the talking only rises in volume. Frustrated, tears bead in my eyes as I reach for my phone, only to slump back in my nest of blankets, exhausted.

“Hwa hyung…” I cry, and I finally hear footsteps coming closer, sighing a breath of relief. He slips into the room quietly, and it's then that I realize he thinks I’m still asleep. I don’t think he heard my shout, so what’s he doing…?

I close my eyes as he climbs up the ladder, pretending to be asleep. Something compels me to do it, some feeling in my gut that only strengthens as he pads over to where I’m cocooned. 

I subconsciously shiver as cold hands trace my cheek, lightly scratching through my hair, which draws out an embarrassing almost purr from me. I hear hyung giggle softly before he speaks. “Aish, San, I really like you, you know that? You look so cute when you sleep, especially since you buried yourself in this nest. It’s cute. You’re cute in general, I just want to squeeze you hard and protect you from everything the world’s thrown on you. You’re so strong and I wish you didn’t have to go through this, but still, I love you. And I hope you can be happy.” 

He takes a breath to talk more, but I can’t listen to him go on about this anymore. It just doesn’t feel right, and I think he’s dating Joong hyung anyway, and I just can’t. 

“H-hyung?” I murmur sleepily, desperately trying to ignore both the physical and emotional pain I’m feeling.

“Oh, San, you’re awake! That’s good, you’ve been sleeping for a while and I was getting worried. Do you want to go out with everyone else, maybe eat something? And your painkillers have probably worn off, so we can go grab th-” He falters when he notices that my knee is swamped in blankets enough to actually be painful. 

“Aish, your knee! Does it hurt?” He asks, trying to pull my nest apart enough that my injuries have space to actually relax. I whimper as he jostles my knee, the pain nearly overwhelming now that the painkillers are gone.

“Shh, it’s alright, I’m just going to pull this off and then I can carry you down if you don’t want to use your crutches, okay?” Hyung finally untangles the blankets, gently grabbing me by the waist and lifting me into his arms. It’s a bit awkward since he can’t really bridal carry me without hurting something, but hyung’s arms are warm and his hoodie is really soft, so I bury my head in it, taking in the smell of that winter day. 

I register being laid down on the couch, the smell disappearing, and I make grabby hands for Hwa hyung, knowing full well my behavior is childish, but he obliges me anyway, tucking under me and making sure we’re pressed chest to back. He’s tense but loosens up after I link our pinkies gently. I don’t miss the look Yeosang gives me, nor Jongho wrinkling his nose at us before smushing himself into the corner of the couch. Joong hyung just sits by my side, resting his hand gently on my thigh. I think we’re supposed to be watching Avengers for the fiftieth time, but I’m more focused on the sensation of Hwa hyung scratching gently at the nape of my neck, the hairs raising as a sigh resonates from deep in my throat.

“Ah, shoot, I forgot to grab your painkillers, San-ah, can someone grab them?” Seonghwa hyung exclaims halfway through Natasha Romanoff taking down five fully grown Russian men. The light hurts my eyes a little bit, but it’s okay because I’m comfortable and I can ignore my budding headache.

“It’s okay, guys, I can just deal with it,” I murmur softly, not wanting to interrupt Jongho’s focus (he’s the only reason we still watch this movie). 

“You don’t have to though San, let us help you.” Joong hyung objects, crawling over the back of the couch and flopping onto the floor before padding over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and the pills that got shoved on the counter earlier.

I snort at his method of getting to the kitchen, dry swallowing the three or four pills he gives me, completely missing the concerned look Seonghwa shoots my way as I ignore the outstretched cup of water.

“Dude, you know you can just take the pill with water right? It’s safer.” I shrug at Yeo’s comment.

“Ma and appa used to give them to me dry, I’m used to it,” I explain. Hwa hyung stops petting my hair before resuming a second later.

“Well, you’ve got friends now to teach you good habits, so drink the water too.”Joong hyung nudges my hand with the mug, and I roll my eyes before gulping down the contents of it. God, I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until just now. 

Hongjoong nonchalantly refills the cup, passing it back to me and diving back into his pile of pillows next to me. We keep watching the movie while I take tiny sips of water and eventually set the cup on the side table. My arms are too short to reach it, so Hwa hyung takes it from my hand, our fingers brushing quickly. My eyes begin drooping in the comfort of hyung’s arms, but I’ve slept too much today and I don’t want to miss the Stuttgart fight, so I begin fighting a losing battle to stay alert, pinching the inside of my wrist sharply. 

Just then, I feel a weight on the top of my head. I tap Joong hyung and point up questioningly, but he smiles and reaches up to ruffle what I assume is Seonghwa hyung’s hair. He mimes sleeping, and my mouth forms a silent O. His arms tighten around me in his sleep, almost as though he’s scared to let me go. 

That thought makes me pause. He, and the rest of my friends, have dealt with so much because I was too weak to fight back against Daehyun. I know they care about me, and I tell myself I deserve it, but somewhere deep in my heart, the thought that I don’t deserve it eats away at my confidence. Logically, they’re probably sick of dealing with me. I’ve done nothing but get them in trouble ever since I was friends with them.

Back when we were younger, I was always the reckless one, the dancer who was never scared to lean over the edge of the cliffs because “I can catch myself, stop worrying!” I always scared everyone, coming home with scraped knees from flipping out a tree and not sticking the landing. Getting to school with bright red handprints adorning my arms, knowing instinctively that I had to hide the bruises my parents had given me that marred my ribs. 

Then my old friends turned on me, and I thought it was love. I thought Daehyun hitting me, then apologizing because “I know you’re strong and I just got carried away, I’m sorry” was my fault. So I never said a word. Never told Yeosang or Hwa, nor Joong and Jongho. No one at my dance studio could know, because how would they let me choreograph dangerous stunts if they knew I had been coughing up blood the day before?

Still, the pressure from eomma and appa to do well in school increased, and I could always feel the silent disapproval from the way I spent upwards of forty hours a week in the dance studio, even if my GPA was still 4.33. Then they started leaving more and more, leaving less and less money for me until I had to start working as a teacher at KQ just to get food, and I started to sneak out to the studio, to go do homework with Yeosang. Because I always had to be the best. But still, the slaps got harder every time they actually came home, my bullies stopped bothering to mince their words. I hid secrets from my own friends, because they had enough to worry about, because _I wasn’t worth it_.

And now Seonghwa hyung knows, and he doesn’t want to let me go. Because I was selfish. Because I didn’t realize how much pain I was causing them by trying to keep them away, to keep them from worrying and wasting their time on me. So yeah, it makes sense that I’m a little more willing to melt into his arms now, to enjoy the soft rising and falling of his chest as his cheek presses into the crown of my head. To relax into his fluffy clothes, set that winter day scent as home. 

It’s been a day, and I feel more at home with the hyungs than I ever did alone in my house, sobbing silently as I stared at my posters and pushing bones to their maximum aching capacity. 

A twinge from said bones pulls me out of my reverie as I realize I’ve been stuck in the same position for far too long. I stick my legs out on the ottoman, and Seonghwa hyung subconsciously wraps his legs around my hips, his feet resting near the middle of my thighs. I finally feel safe enough to drift off without consequences waiting for me tomorrow.


	6. Can I Be Domestic at 5AM?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW mentioned nightmare

It’s been nearly two weeks, and the hyungs and I have adopted a morning routine that makes my heart ache every time I realize that this is what a family should be. I wake both of them up, used to getting up really early for dance, and we eat breakfast together, bedhead and all, before spending the rest of the morning doing homework. In the afternoon, Hongjoong hyung normally shuts himself upstairs in his studio while I do physical therapy and work out and Hwa hyung cleans or paints. Sometimes I join him out on the balcony when the weather’s nice enough. They both help me change my bandages and stuff before dinner, and then we all make dinner together and chill in the living room for a few hours for “family bonding night,” as Seonghwa hyung has jokingly named it. Honestly, we’ve become an unconventional little family in our own right. 

Slowly, being called Sannie is becoming less of a sore spot. Hyungs slip it back into conversation occasionally, but not as much as they used to. I still get nightmares pretty frequently, but the skyline and the knowledge that my hyungs are just a few doors away if I need them is normally enough to fall asleep again pretty easily. All of my injuries are pretty much healed except my knee, though my ankle and ribs still twinge occasionally. I’m still too afraid to actually look at what Daehyun carved into my back, but I always change that bandage alone and in the dark.

We’re all eating kimchi jjigae on Saturday night when Hongjoong hyung speaks up over the food-slurred k-pop karaoke we’re doing.

“We do have to think about going back to school soon. I know Yeo and Jongho are already back, and I know you’ve been staying home to heal. But the three of us have to go back at some point. San, you can probably stay longer at home if you need to, but Hwa and I should probably go back on Monday.” My heart drops, and I shut off the music.

“I don’t want to be alone all day hyung.” That's another thing they’re helping me with, actually voicing my opinions sometimes.

“Do you think you’re ready to get back to school though?” Seonghwa speaks up from the other side of the table. I hesitate for a second before nodding, fully aware that all my friends are here for me now.

“I’m already planning on going back to dance this week, I might as well add school too,” I affirm, grabbing a piece of tofu out of my bowl. 

“Okay, and we grabbed your uniforms from your parents’ house, so you should be all set. If you’re sure, I’ll email the principal and everyone else who needs to know.” Hongjoong responds. I resume the music, and we resume our scream singing of NCT’s Fire Truck.

Later that night, I lie awake, clutching Shiber to my chest as I flip around in my bed, grabbing my airpods and phone as a sudden burst of energy overtakes me. I haven’t had time to properly process anything that’s happened because the only way I really process is choreography and I can’t do that. I’m going back to dance tomorrow with my crew, and I’m starting to teach on Monday, so I need to get back in the swing of things. 

I ease open my door, limping down the hall to the dance studio. My bulky brace came off two days ago and was replaced by a smaller, less movement-limiting brace, and the doctor said I can start working out and doing small things that aren’t super knee intensive. _In moderation._

But I don’t know what moderation is anymore, because my parents shoved mediocrity and half-assing things out of my mind years ago. 

I warm up, the familiar stretches not coming as easy as they did before my injury. I always start solo practices with a couple covers just to loosen up my muscles even more. Move, Mmmh, even Any Song, I spin and move, losing myself in the music for hours longer than I intended, the pain in my knee throbbing in time with the beats thumping through my ears, becoming secondary to the feeling. 

A shrill cry of my name bursts through my tranquil bubble. “San! San, where are you?!” That’s Hwa hyung. And it sounds like he’s in my room. Shit. Pausing the music and ripping my earbuds out of my ears, I limp out of the studio, my knee on fire. 

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” I call, breathing heavily. It’s now that I’m realizing I definitely overdid it. He simply walks over to me and hugs me tightly, tears dripping into my hair. He then pushes me back a bit, frantically looking me over. 

“Hyung, please, I’m fine, you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?” I ask again, in a quieter voice. Hyung shakes his head once or twice rapidly, finally breathing a sigh of relief. I envelop him in another hug as Hongjoong hyung finally comes down to see what the commotion is about.

“It’s five in the morning, you okay?” His head remains resolutely resting in the junction of my neck and shoulder. “Alright, well, if you don’t want to talk, I’m gonna go back to bed, okay Hwa?” He shuffles off without a response before suddenly turning around.

“Wait, Sannie-ah, why were you awake?” This time hyung’s head lifts up, and my heart breaks at how absolutely _awful_ he looks.

Hwa hyung’s bedhead frames tear-streaked cheeks, the wrinkles of his pillow having imprinted themselves across the left side of his face. But his eyes, while red-rimmed and puffy, remain bright and inquisitive, though there’s an element of worry and fear in his gaze.

I shrink a little bit, my arms dropping to my sides as I fidget. “I was… I was just working out a little bit since I couldn’t sleep,” I lie, but both of hyungs’ eyes narrow at the exact same time.

“You wouldn’t be so sweaty if you were just doing the PT exercises, San,” Joong counters, and I look down, overcome with shame. 

“I was dancing…” It’s barely a whisper, but they both look angry, and I cower. 

“P-please don’t hit me, I’m sorry hyungs!” I thought this family could be different. I shut my eyes and prepare for the blow.

But it never comes.

Peeking an eye open, I barely have time to relax before Hongjoong hyung smashes into my chest, sobbing about how he’s sorry and he’s never going to treat me like my parents did. 

“It’s okay, hyung, I overreacted,” I start, but I’m cut off.

“No, San, you definitely shouldn’t have been dancing, but you don’t ever need to worry that we’re going to hit you.” Seonghwa hyung speaks, his words gravelly. 

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding, nodding my thanks. We all go to sit in my room, as it’s the closest, and I realize that this is the first time the hyungs are actually seeing my room. 

It’s changed a lot from when I first moved in. For one, it's a lot messier, but my nest of blankets is well-formed in the reading nook now, the blankets rumpled, books stacked everywhere instead of neatly tucked away in their shelves. My school papers litter the rolling desk I have currently in the left corner next to the window. I’ve put up my posters and medals near the shelves holding my trophies, and there are fairy lights winding all around the room, old photos and polaroids clipped on at even intervals. I’ve finally found a use for the window markers my aunt got me a few years ago, and math calculations litter the left of the window, doodles and song lyrics on the right. I’ve left the middle completely clear so I can always look out of the window. My huge dance speaker that I used to keep in my room for when my parents were gone is now in the area I’ve cleared for my trusty old barre and pile of dance stuff. 

“Wow, San, you’ve really made this place your home, huh?” Joong hyung ruffles my hair, but I can tell that he’s still serious, however tired he is. 

We all flop onto the bed, forming a sort of triangle with me leaning against the headboard. “Hwa, you want to go first? What was that whole thing about?”

Hyung is still reserved, sniffling a bit before he responds. “I- I had a nightmare,” I don’t miss the frown on Joong’s face, “And I… and I couldn’t help it, tonight I just, I needed to see that Sannie was okay, because… because I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something even worse had happened that night, I’m barely hanging on as it is.” He delves into sobs once again, burying his face into my hoodie as Hongjoong and I share concerned glances over the top of his head.

“Shh, Hwa hyung, it’s okay, I’m okay, I promise, I love you. Come back to us hyung, take your time, everything is okay,” I whisper into his ear, tracing patterns into his back. He inhales deeply through his nose, cuddling deeper into my chest as a low whine rumbles through his body. “‘M sorry, Sannie, Joongie, just overwhelmed… I want Sannie to stop hurting…” he mutters and neither of us speak, focused on calming down the Toothless-looking male currently in my lap. He’s become a puddle of exhaustion, and falls asleep before either of us can get him to move to his own bedroom, so I let him sleep on my lap as Joong hyung turns his piercing gaze to me.

“Now, you, wanna explain why you were dancing at 5 am even though your knee isn’t healed enough for it?”

I gulp, my gaze trailing down to Seonghwa’s neck. His collarbones are really pretty, which sounds weird but it’s true. “I just wanted to dance, hyung…” 

He doesn’t relent. “You know better than any of us how debilitating injuries like this can be. So why would you risk potentially ruining all of your recovery for ‘just wanting to dance’?” 

I finally burst. “Hyung, you don’t get it! You don’t have to deal with the constant worries that your body is getting out of shape because your body can’t heal. Or when it feels like it doesn’t hurt, so you push it and realize it was worse than you thought. Or when you’re scared to go back to school because everyone’s going to think you’re weak for not being able to fight off your bullies. And plus, it’s so easy to get lost in music. It’s like all of my worries are gone, and everything just becomes beats and lyrics and feelings pouring out in one huge rush. But,” I laugh bitterly, “I can’t. Because my knee’s in a fucking brace!” I shout at the end, and Hwa hyung opens his eyes to look at me.

“‘M tired, Sannie don’t be mad please.” And then he falls promptly asleep again, an arm curling around my hand. 

It’s silent for a long moment before Hongjoong speaks.

“Sannie, I’m really sorry. None of this should have ever happened to you, you never deserved it-”

“But I did.” It’s barely a whisper, and I didn’t mean to voice it, but early morning emotional me must have less filters than normal me. Joong hyung pauses, his eyes whipping to mine, fierce and bright and… protective? 

“I need you to listen to me, really listen. You never deserved any of the bad things life threw at you. You never asked to be beat up in an alley by your old friends. You never asked for your parents to leave you alone in a house for months on end. You never asked to be targeted for being yourself, okay? Believe me, you didn’t. Please believe me. Life tests us all, and it picks the strong ones to test more. You’ve dealt with so much since you were born, and it’s all because you’re the strongest person I know. But even if you’re not strong physically, or even if you think not in the best shape, or you think that you had it coming, it’s not true. Because we are all ourselves, and no one, _no one_ deserves to be hurt for that.” Hyung ends his rant with a small gasp, furiously wiping away the tears that have begun to bead at the edges of his eyes.

“‘M sorry, hyung, I’m just so scared.” My voice breaks, but I’ve given up on looking strong or being strong. Joong hyung reaches for me, but I flinch away, emotions too raw and overwhelming for the feeling of a more foreign comfort (even if Hongjoong hyung and I end up sharing casual cuddles every other night, it's not the same).

I shake Hwa hyung gently, and he peaks an eye open, mouth already open to protest. “Please, hyung, I need… I need a hug,” I whisper, tears beginning to unabashedly leak down my face. He immediately wraps me in sweater-pawed hands, pushing my face into the collarbones I was staring at earlier. Joong hyung wraps around my back, but I don’t mind anymore.

We fall onto our sides eventually, with me sandwiched between the hyungs. But I can’t sleep, crying silently as I stare at the Seoul skyline, wishing I could fly through the clouds and finally be free from the burden I carry.


	7. Meeting the Rest of the Crew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW homophobia

My arms shake, Yeosang shooting me a concerned look as I get out of Seonghwa hyung’s car with my crutches. “I thought you were off of those?” He says by way of greeting.

“I was dancing last night, or this morning I guess, and I overdid it,” I mutter, shoving my way through the doors of KQ and embracing the familiar scent of sweat and happiness. My blood, sweat, and tears went into making this place bigger than the rundown warehouse with just a few dancers. Now, we’ve made a proper dance academy out of the warehouse, with huge mirrors and partitions for several different smaller studios. I teach a couple junior and toddler classes in addition to being captain of our senior company teams, and I used to go so often that the owners have practically raised me at this point. It’s pretty much been decided that I’m going to take over this place once Mrs. and Mx. Kim retire.

A couple kids pause as the sound of crutches hitting the floor echoes throughout the main room. They’re new faces, but Jongho accompanies them and they look around my age.

Yeosang goes up to them, fist bumping each in turn. There are three, one who’s really short and two that I have to crane my neck to make eye contact with.

“Ah, Sannie, these are Wooyoung, Yunho, and Mingi, our new transfers! I think they’re all in senior, Mx. Kim was just waiting for you to decide where you want them and determine dance styles and all that stuff,” He introduces them, and I memorize their names.

“Hi guys, I’m recovering from an injury right now, but I’ll be back dancing, uh, I think next week?” Yeosang nods when I look at him questioningly. “Anyway, are you guys stretched?”

They all look a bit bewildered at my sudden question, but nod anyway. “Good. We have Fellaz comp practice starting in like five minutes, so I want to see your levels and dance styles, and it’d be great if I could just first have you each do a little performance, then a freestyle, and then I’m going to teach you a bit of last year’s nationals choreography and see if you can pick it up.” I explain, shouldering open the door to Studio A and syncing my phone to the speaker system as they follow me in.

I’m well aware that when it comes to dancing and dance-related things, I’m way different from my normal self. During breaks, I might laugh around with everyone else, but when it comes down to competitions and choreography and everything I love, I get in a zone. I’ve been told I’m terrifying sometimes, like a demon onstage and a “teddy bear” offstage (their words, not mine). 

Five minutes later, everyone’s here. They’ve all learned not to be late without telling me first because we only have three hours twice a week and we can’t waste it. “Wooyoung, you’re up first.”

Wooyoung is a good dancer. He has good control over his legs and hips. His arms can be a bit iffy sometimes, but that will improve with practice. His style is quite melodious, sharp and fluid at the same time. Short height is a blessing in that he can pull in tight and can also make large shapes without losing control or looking too big. But he also doesn’t move too much, and I can imagine that in a formation, he would have to take several larger steps to make up for the stride of, say, Yunho. His freestyle is a bit awkward, but I chose something that didn’t fit his style on purpose. Given that the song I played was meant more for a popping routine, he made the best of it with his style. I get the feeling that he learned the basics himself and then applied them at a studio, which is fine, but it makes for small errors that I notice in the way he executes some more popular popping moves. He ends in a split, which is surprising to me. It’s really hard to find super flexible male dancers, since they normally choose to focus on stunts. 

I motion to Mingi, and he takes his place in the center. Right away, his facial expressions shift, and they continue to do so. If Wooyoung was controlled fluidity, he’s all power and swag, but he also doesn’t execute super difficult moves. It’s almost as though he’s hiding behind natural power and expressions to make up for a lack of resume. His angles are a bit looser than they should be, but that's a side effect of long limbs. His freestyle is where he brings out some more technique. I play a locking song we did a couple years ago for fun, but he busts right into locking and adds a bit of waacking without any hesitation. I can see why he struggled with the choreography he did; it definitely wasn’t his style, which is a problem because we really rarely do locking choreographies. 

“Are you a rapper?” I ask as he takes his place on the bench near Wooyoung, and he nods shyly, though I can tell he’s a bit surprised that I could tell. 

Yunho is different from the other two. He’s got grace, control, and power, and I can tell he has probably quite a bit of experience. I expect his routine to contain stunts, and I’m not wrong; someone with that much experience typically takes acro classes at least for a little bit. However, sometime’s he’s a little too explosive. I catch a tiny stumble after he gets out of a Nike freeze, but he hides it pretty well. Freestyle-wise, he honestly shocks me. His execution makes it look like he already knew what the song was. He hits the beats perfectly, switching between accenting different layers of the song like it’s the easiest thing to do. A particularly high hitch kick is perfectly timed with the end of the music. 

I clear my throat loudly as the room erupts into cheers for the three. “I’m going to show you like 30 seconds of a choreography Ateez did to win nationals last year. I’ll do it twice, and then I want you to do it twice alone see what you’ve picked up. Then, I’m going to dissect it a bit more, and we’ll do it again, once with me, once without, and once with everyone in each team who’s here right now. This is going to be your placement test of a sort.” 

“To explain, I captain three of the four senior company teams. I’m in charge of KQ Fellaz, and then Oneus and Ateez. They’re all pretty much the same level, but Fellaz doesn’t go to the qualifier tournaments, it’s more for rec. Chungha’s the vice captain of Fellaz, Hwanwoong for Oneus, and then Yeosang for Ateez. And then the fourth team is Produce, co-captained by Chaeyeon, which is the kind of “all-girls” unit, but they’re not as competitive and they only do select competitions with certain events, and we don’t really group by gender, so obviously if you want to do heels or pole or any of that, feel free to join them. I do most of the choreo for all of the groups, but Chungha and Chae normally help me for Produce. ” I’ve given this spiel to each and every dancer that wants to join our competition teams before they sign the contracts.

The three of them just nod, standing up to get behind me. I limp to the center as the opening echoes through the room, ignoring Yeosang’s small noise of protest from the side. 

I do the first thirty seconds of the familiar choreo emblazoned into my muscles, ignoring the way my knee twinges when I drop suddenly and flip back up. It continues to burn, but it’s tolerable, and I’m going to sit off of it for the rest of the week, so I’ll just deal with it. 

I limp over to the music to rerun it when Yeosang grabs my wrist. “Dude, everyone who dances with you can see that you’re not dancing as well as you normally do. Let one of us show them, please.” Then he drops his voice, “San, I know what’s going through your mind, but we need you healthy for tourney season, and you can’t push this far. Please.” His puppy eyes are nearly irresistible, and the concern in his voice allows me to finally slump into my seat. I close my eyes, inhaling deep as I let myself process the pain. “Yeo, take over,” I mutter, reaching for my water bottle and casually slinging an arm across my ribs. 

I zone out for just a quick second, something I never do at dance, but I also rarely show up with bandages stretching across my back and crutches. I watch the three of them do it once. Wooyoung seems to have half of it, Mingi has a little more but it’s quite sloppy, and Yunho… Yunho has it all but he’s marking, so I can’t tell if it’s any good.

“Yunho, stop marking, you need to go full out,” I bark out while they run it again. He bows his head quickly in acknowledgement, plunging back into the choreography with reinvigorated, larger, movements. They’ve each got a little bit more, and Yunho’s is a bit sloppy but he has the vague idea. 

I listen to Sang teach the movements quickly. He goes over the full thirty seconds in maybe three to five minutes, which is normally a bit quicker than Fellaz learns it from me. When Yeo runs it with them, they all have it, and while it’s a bit less defined than it should be, it’s a lot cleaner than last time. They do it alone, and I realize that Mingi’s movements are a bit awkward, with less control than the other two. But his expressions are on point, which is surprising because normally it takes confidence in the routine to have confidence show on your face. 

I get out of my chair, ignoring Hwanwoong’s small protest of “Dude!” when I take a place near the side for their run with Ateez. Right now, Ateez is only Yeosang, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Jongho, and myself after we lost the three girls on the team to JYP Studios. Only Jongho, Sang, and I are here right now, but it’s enough to see how they fit with us. The music blares through my head, forcing my building headache to the forefront of my brain, and I fall back right before our drop, marking it as I watch the rest of them. Wooyoung and Yunho will fit in nicely with us, but I feel like Mingi won’t fit us. 

The other two teams have a few kids that learned our dance last year for fun, so they get up for their respective runs with the newbies. KQ Fellaz seems to fit Yunho really well, and I can see that he and Sunmi have some kind of weirdly random synergy. Mingi will find his place in Oneus for sure; even if he towers over Hwanwoong, he fits well with them. With Wooyoung and Mingi’s teams pretty much decided, it’s just a question of Yunho, and I’ll let him make that decision. 

“So I think Mingi should go with Oneus, and I want Wooyoung in Ateez, but Yunho, you fit well in both Fellaz and Ateez. It’s just a matter of how many hours you can put in, ‘cause Ateez is a lot more demanding. And Mingi, Wooyoung, if you guys can’t dedicate enough time to dance, I’m putting you in Fellaz as well. But also, something to consider is joining Fellaz and the other team I’ve recommended for you. It’s a big time commitment, but if you’re huge on dance, it might be a good option.” I look each of them in the eye as I give them their options.

They mull them over for a brief second, each deciding to stay with Oneus or Ateez, but there’s two more levels of bureaucracy I have to go through before I make the decision: the vice captains and the Kims. 

I invite all of them to a meeting in my small office, and we talk for five minutes, the decision being made really quickly. I grab the contracts from the second drawer of my desk, hoping I have a pen in my dance bag. 

They each sign the contract without complaint. It’s just a confirmation of who they are, their team, and their weekly hours requirement. There’s also the clause about the contracts being yearly, but that’s pretty standard. This time when cheers erupt, I shout with them. It’s always a great day when new people join our studio. “Let’s go get the cake from San’s fridge!” someone screams, but honestly, I’m fine with them eating it right now.

My phone buzzes against my thigh, and I slip out of the chaos, shouting “save a piece for me!” as I put it up to my ear without even bothering to look at the caller ID. 

“Hello?”

“San, come outside now. We’re waiting.” My eomma’s voice echoes through the phone, through my heart. No, they can’t be here.

“Eo-eomma, you abandoned me.” I can feel myself already about to cry, but I ignore it. 

“Your father and I were confused. We didn’t think you could have ended up like that because we were such good parents and I just don’t see what we did wrong, but we reserved a spot for you at a place for others who feel like you. And they’ll teach you how to get rid of it, please just come home.”

“You want to send me to a fucking conversion camp.” My voice is flat, anger creeping into the words as I bite them out one by one.

“No, Sannie, we just want to help you get back to where you were before you became friends with those f*ggots.” My hands begin shaking in anger.

“Did you ever think that I might’ve just been born like this, eomma?”

“Don’t go there, San, that’s all lies they feed you.” I can hear exasperation through the phone, but it buzzes as I get another incoming call. It’s Seonghwa hyung.

“Sorry, mother, I have to go, my boyfriend is calling.” I hear a little gasp coming from the other end. I don’t know what possesses me to scream that into the phone before I pick up his call, but it feels oddly good. 

“Hey, Sannie, I know you’re at Fellaz practice, but I was just wondering what time you think you’ll be done, Joongie and I want to have a movie night with the rest of Ateez just because you’re going back to school tomorrow. I know Yeo and Jongho still have to check with parents but it’ll be fun!”

“We’ll probably be done kind of early, we got new kids and I put two of them in Ateez and one in Oneus, but I still need to figure out choreos and songs for this year and nothing can really be done right now. Speaking of which, can the new kids come too or not?”

“Yeah, but I call dibs on cuddling you!” He says, laughing into the phone.

“Oh, hyung, my mom called.” It slips out of nowhere, but his laughter dies.

“We need to talk about it when you get home, Sannie. But do you need anything right now?”

“Uh, yeah, I” my breath catches in my throat. “I sort of told her we’re dating? She was being rude and being all homophobic and then you called and I told her that my ‘boyfriend’ was calling, I’m really sorry hyung, but I also don’t regret it because I kind of like you?” I take a deep breath, panting for air at the end of my small rant. 

And then reality hits because I totally did not mean for that last part to come out.

“You like me back?” His voice catches, hesitant.

“I- what?”

“Sannie, I think I’ve liked you ever since I laid eyes on you! But I didn’t think you liked me back. Will you go on a date with me sometime soon?” 

“I mean, of course, but why- why are you so happy? Why would you want to be with me?”

“Sannie-ah, you’re perfect and amazing and kind, not to mention you’re not exactly bad on the eyes.” I can practically hear Hwa’s smile.

Seonghwa hyung starts to say something else, but the doors bang open and my mom and dad walk in with all their Choi Corporation pomp. 

Time freezes. 

“Where’s our heir?” My father’s voice is quiet, but carries weight.

“Heir of what?” I turn and realize everyone is staring. It’s Ms. Kim that spoke, though, and dread settles deep in my chest.

My mom smirks, reaching out to grab my hand. I flinch hard, but she wrenches me to her with no regards to my knee, my crutches clattering as I stumble into her side.

I dimly hear Seonghwa yelling into the phone, “San, what’s going on?!” but I can’t respond, my mouth frozen.

“My darling Sannie, didn’t you tell them?” She turns to face everyone else. “He’s the heir of Choi Corps.”


	8. The Competition™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW flashback, eating discomfort

“Now, I don’t know how my son found himself with such commoners, but he’s coming home with us.” My mother’s grip has bruised around my wrist at this point.

I’m still on the phone with Seonghwa, and I sneakily hit the speakerphone so he can hear what’s going on as my mom starts pulling me towards the doors.

The sound of sneakers slapping wood speeds up as Yeosang, Hwanwoong, and Chungha run in front of me. “Lady, I don’t care who you are. He’s our captain and our friend. And you disowned him, so stop trying to change him. He doesn’t want to be your stupid heir!” Chungha snaps at my mom, and I appreciate the gesture because I certainly don’t have the courage to do that.

I can hear two cars pulling up outside, one frantically and one calmly. But my father shoves through the three of them, and Yeosang pulls me back really quickly to whisper in my ear. “I’m sorry we couldn’t stop them. But give them hell.” I grin shakily as I hear the familiar chant of KQ.

All of a sudden I’m outside, the cold shocking me as I’m dragged towards a big black car. “Ma, please, I don’t want to go,” I begin begging as reality hits, but all she does is slap me across the face and move to throw me into the car.

And then a voice speaks up from the side. “What are you doing with my boyfriend?” and I breathe a sigh of relief because a very pissed Seonghwa next to Hongjoong with his rapper face on is legitimately terrifying. I can see a moment of surprise pass over Hongjoong hyung’s face before he smooths it back into his intimidating face. Seonghwa pitches forward suddenly, pulling me into a big embrace before my parents can do anything about it.

“I’m not letting them take you,” he promises, pressing a kiss to my quickly bruising wrist as my mom flounders for words.

“Now, ma’am, Sannie has a team to lead. Several, actually.” I can hear the fury in hyung’s snarky tone as he walks me back in and shuts the door loudly. Someone runs up to me with my crutches. I think it’s Jongho but I’m honestly too out of it to tell. 

“Since when were you two dating?” is the first question out of anyone’s mouths, and I let out a low chuckle at that, letting Hwa press a kiss to the crown of my head before he talks. He’s doing this whole thing way too easily for someone who literally became my, uh, whatever we are, over a phone call.

“Sannie and I started dating like two weeks ago, so we didn’t really tell anyone, but yeah.” He finishes awkwardly, swinging our linked hands up. It’s a lie, but as I think back to two weeks ago, I realize that’s when I was triggered by a book I was reading and Seonghwa came and cuddled me until morning. It might as well have been the start. Sunmi coos at us, and I wrinkle my nose, picking up my crutches and limping back into the studio. When no one follows, I peak my head back out.

“We still have dance practice.” The team hurries back in as they realize I’m back to dance mode, never mind that I’m still reeling from what my parents tried to do. 

“I don’t have that many choreo ideas right now because, well, you know,” I gesture to my knee, “so we’re going to do conditioning!” I let a bit of sarcasm filter through my voice as I do jazz hands. Everyone groans, spacing out on the floor as I find my conditioning playlist. Seonghwa and Hongjoong join them, thankfully being dressed in at least mildly comfortable clothes.

“Alright, stretches, you guys know the drill. Mingi, Yunho, Wooyoung, just follow along.” Music starts thumping overhead, and I count for everyone, yelling out a comment here and there. We go through conditioning without too many bumps, since everyone is generally pretty strong. 

“And to finish off, we’re doing the competition.” We haven’t done one of these in a few years, and most of the dancers that have been here for only one or two seasons look around at the senior dancers, confused. I motion to Chungha, Woong, and Sang to come to the front and pick their teams. 

“Basically, we’re going to do a series of exercises, and each team will nominate three people per exercise. Whoever holds out the longest or does the most reps gets a point, and the most points gets pizza on me,” I explain, limping over to the whiteboard we normally use for formations and creating a score chart. 

“Alright, Chungha, come pick the first exercise from the Box of Hell.” Our sparkly box, aptly named the Box of Hell by Dongju, holds around forty different exercises, and we normally do at least ten. She picks pushups, and I hear groans of preemptive pain from everyone in the room. I, thankfully, don’t have to participate, but I’m normally pretty good at the competitions.

Chungha’s team sends Seulgi, Somi, and Jongho, while Yeosang sends Seonghwa, Lisa, and Keeho, and Hwanwoong sends Youngjo, Geonhak, and Wheein. Unsurprisingly, Seulgi, Jongho, Keeho, and Geonhak hold out the longest, but Keeho and Seulgi tie for first, which not many people were expecting. Keeho’s only been here for a season, though, and we haven’t done these in a while, but Seulgi’s always had ridiculously strong arms. I think they both drop at the 70th pushup.

For planks, everyone who goes holds it for at least four minutes, but our resident planking champion is, expectedly, Matt from Yeosang’s team, formally of KARD before their academy went bankrupt and they all joined us. Sit-ups are taken by Rosie on Woong’s team, and the wall sits competition goes on for a full 17 minutes before Jimin sits down, leaving Wonho as the champion from Chungha’s team. V-ups are quicker because those are honestly hell, so Chaeyeon beats out everyone else very obviously. The scores have been tied: each team has two, and we’re all too tired to do more, so I announce a freestyle session and call the delivery place for pizza upon everyone’s puppy dog eyes at me. 

We shut the overhead lights and turn on the LEDs around the mirror and framing the speakers and corners. Everyone splits randomly to either side of the studio, clearing space in the middle for the dancers. I’m itching to join them, but Seonghwa sits out with me so I’m not alone manning the music. 

“Hyung, you don’t have to, go have fun,” I whisper-shout over the music as people begin whooping and showing off. He simply squeezes my hand in response, moving closer to me on the bench and turning towards me, touching his forehead to mine. 

“We’re dating, remember? I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re struggling,” he whispers, cold breath blowing into the shell of my ear. He keeps getting closer and closer, wrapping his arm around my waist. My breath hitches in my throat as I tilt my head up slightly, heart pounding.

And then his lips are on mine. 

It’s just a light peck, and Seonghwa goes to withdraw, but I chase him, seeking more of the warm chocolatey taste of his lips, slinging my legs over his thighs. And god, it’s electrifying. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed touch until just now. His arms squeeze tighter around me, lips pressing bruisingly against mine. My toes curl as hyung nips my bottom lip teasingly, his tongue slipping out to lick over the small bead of blood that springs up there. 

“Yah, you guys might be dating but we’re still here!” A sock comes flying at our heads, and I barely manage to dodge it. I flush a deep red, scooting away from hyung, but he doesn’t let go of my waist, letting out a near growl as he pulls me back into his lap. “Y’all are just jealous,” he grumbles, resting his chin on my head. I wince subconsciously as my knee twinges and the freestyling resumes, but hyung’s hand comes down to my brace, massaging gently through the cloth as I lean back into his chest.

Twenty minutes go by, and I just kind of zone out again, allowing myself to process everything that’s happened. Eventually the music shuts off as Mx. Kim comes in with the pizza, and I get up to grab it from them. I thank them and flip the boxes open on the side table, everyone congregating around the food like hungry monsters.

“Guys chill!” I laugh, having expected this. They’re teens after all, and they’ve been dancing, of course they’re going to want to eat. I hook up my airpods to my phone as chatter fills the room, trying to pick a song out of the playlist I have of songs I want to choreograph to.

I ignore the couple bumps to my shoulder, dismissing it as a room full of chaotic teenagers, but as they persist, I whip my head around, glaring.

“Woah, dude, sorry, I just wanted to give you food.” Yeosang backs up a bit, holding a plate out to me. 

“‘M not hungry,” I mutter, resuming my music and ignoring wherever he goes. Honestly, my stomach is growling, but I can’t dance, so I might as well not risk losing my physique. But suddenly, 16 Shots begins blasting in my ear, and I shoot up from my slumped position as my eyes widen. I know that people use this song a lot, especially since Blackpink danced to it a few years ago. But it would be worth remixing and then choreographing. I Miss You is a pretty well-known song that fits Produce’s strengths, and I feel like it would be good for this season given that there’s a lot of new teams trying to stand out with their music in addition to their dance. Oneus told me they wanted to try a different concept than the traditional hip hop dance vibe, so I set Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing for them. Ateez is my core unit, so I know them all the best, but deciding songs is always hard because I care most about what they think. Honestly, I might just ask Hongjoong to help me and write an original song this year.

Sighing, I send the audio files that I’ve decided on to my computer so I can work on them later, and allow myself to be pulled up by whoever drapes over my back. 

“Sannie,” hot pizza-tainted breath fans across my neck. Seonghwa hyung. “You’re really pretty, you know that? Just wanna kiss you and squeeze you tight sometimes- no, all the time.” I laugh at him, trying to push him off, but he insists on pecking me on the cheek.

“I mean it, San. I get to call you mine now.” His breath is sending shivers across my entire body as his voice drops an octave. Heat pools in my gut at the possessiveness in the words. 

“Hyung… ” I start, but am interrupted by hyung taking my hand and leading me outside. I don’t miss the hoots from Ateez, but I glare at them and allow hyung to drag me out of the room. We exit the doors of Studio A, and we run into one of the back halls of KQ, excitement hurrying our pace. 

“Hyung,” I whine as his hand slides over the side of my face, trailing gently down my chest. He simply tips a finger to his lips, a mischievous smile on his face, before he captures my lips in a kiss deep enough that I arch into him, letting out a groan as he rolls his tongue across my lips, slipping it into my mouth. His hands find their way to my hair, weaving through the strands and tugging lightly. It’s hot and wet and messy and rough, but it’s what we both needed after nearly a month of just cuddling, stuck as just friends. 

His mouth leaves mine, and I whimper again, before he flutters gently over my collarbone. What starts as soft pecks soon turn into harsh bites and I throw my head back, letting groans and whimpers echo in the empty corridor. Hyung moans as he pushes me against the wall, reclaiming my mouth, and I melt under his hands, vibrations from various sounds serving only to further the heat growing in my stomach. But my head knocks against the wall lightly, and suddenly I’m thrown back to that night in the alley. 

I push hyung away weakly, trying to ward off the panic attack I can feel coming. “Hyung, why can’t I just be normal…?” It’s a whisper, but he hears it anyway, concern lining his eyes as he realizes what we just did.

“Oh my god, Sannie, I should’ve picked a better place, I’m so sorry-” He begins, but I cut him off, shaking my head.

“It wasn’t your fault, I didn't even know I’d react like this, just, can you help me back? I want to grab my stuff and go home.” My voice is shaky, but I’m maintaining my control over myself, and I want to go to my safe space so I can properly cry. Seonghwa gently pulls me to his side, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head as he fixes my shirt to hide the bruises blooming across my collarbone.

He freezes suddenly, staring at the exposed sliver of my back. “Why do you still have a bandage here? The doctor said to let your bruises and cuts air out after a few weeks. That’s dangerous.” I shrug, moving to walk back into the studio, but hyung’s grasp is firm on my other shoulder. “San.” His voice is low, warning. But I’m exhausted, and I can feel anger bubbling up inside of me. _Keep it together_ , I think, _Don’t explode at the person who just kissed you._

“Hyung, please, I’ll tell you at home.” I grit out, pulling his hand, and by extension, the rest of him, with me back down the street. He nods his assent, but I can feel the worry radiating off his body in waves. 

We get back just in time for me to see the Fellaz obediently cleaning up the mess they’ve made across the floor, which I very much appreciate. All of the vice captains shoot us glances, but I ignore them, choosing to instead grab my water bottle and change into street shoes.

“Y’all are dismissed.” My voice is quiet, thin, but silences whatever was going on. Those knowing glances turn into frowns at my tone. Ateez pulls back as they grab their stuff. I think Hongjoong hyung told them we were having a pizza party at the hyungs’ house. 

Yeo slings an arm around my back, and I try to disguise a flinch when he comes into contact with the still healing mark Daehyun left on me. Everything else has pretty much healed at this point save for my knee. And that brand. I’m still too scared to figure out what he left there, but I don’t think Seonghwa hyung will let me get away from explaining with the excuses I normally use. 

We all pile into the SUV, Wooyoung and Yunho sitting in the middle seat after Hongjoong does his dad thing and convinces them to join us. Jongho thankfully doesn’t protest when I allow my head to knock into his shoulder, choosing to lightheartedly tease me with a “how are you even tired hyung, you barely danced!” Normally, those words would hurt, but I know that he’s well aware of how exhausting injuries are after his broken foot last year. I zone out again, thinking dimly to myself that I really need to stop making this a habit, but the atmosphere in the car is so comforting. There’s quiet chatter coming from the front as everyone makes conversation and integrates the two new ones into our group, the rumble of Jongho’s voice joining the discussion every then and again. 

“-think, San?” I snap out of my state as I realize everyone in the car is looking at me expectantly (save Hongjoong hyung, who’s actually a responsible driver). 

“Sorry, what?” I ask, pushing myself up and brushing my hair out of my eyes. I notice Hwa’s eyes following the movement, and I chuckle to myself as I take note of how easy it is to rile him up. 

“We were just wondering which movie you wanted to watch when we get home?” Yunho restates the question shyly, almost raising his hand as though he needs permission to speak. I reach out to ruffle his hair, taking him off guard, but he seems to ease up after it. A grin alights on my face as I consider the movies I want to watch, the choice already made in my head.

Yeosang groans. “He’s going to say the same thing he always does, I knew we shouldn’t have asked him-” 

“Let’s watch HSM!” Everyone rolls their eyes, but I can tell they’re going to let me watch it. 

Save for Wooyoung, who quietly asks, “what’s HSM?” 

“Don’t provoke him!” 

“Well, you see, HSM is an amazing, showstopping, incredible, never been seen before musical with romance, comedy, and several amazing numbers such as Wildcats…”


	9. First Day Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW bullying, panic attack, implied eating disorder

I wake up on Monday morning already dealing with a pounding headache. “Maybe we shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night…” I grumble, reaching around blindly for my phone so that the klaxon I have my alarm set to stops blasting out of the speaker. When we finished watching the first High School Musical, Wooyoung was hooked. So we all stayed up to rewatch all three movies and half of the series. Of course, by then it was like 4 AM, so the rest went home while the three of us just slumped into our beds and fell asleep almost instantaneously. 

And now it’s 5 AM, and I’m realizing that I have regrets. 

After I set some potential choreographies for our teams, I stumble my way to the kitchen after changing and brushing my teeth, making coffee with muscle memory. I bang on Seonghwa hyung’s door and deem the unintelligible groans inside as awake. I limp up the stairs to hyung’s loft, shaking him awake. Forgoing breakfast, I walk back to my room, shoving my textbooks and notebooks back into my backpack. It might as well be the first day of school, I’m carrying practically my entire locker. 

When I go to wear my backpack, I realize I’ll have to switch shoulders. It’s a bit unwieldy, but I jump a few times to try and get used to the weight. I startle out of my unease as my phone pings. It’s just a selfie of Yeosang in his morning glory, bedhead accompanying smudged eyeliner. 

**Sangieieie:** [image attached]

 **Sangieieie:** this is your fault 

**Sannnnnie:** i didnt make u stay up to watch all of hsm with me

 **Sangieieie:** i mean i’ll be fine 

**Sangieieie:** the bigger question is whether or not u will lmao 

That text gives me pause. It’s carefully worded, hidden behind the conversation, but I know what he’s trying to ask.

 **Sannnnnie:** u honestly think i havent pulled an all nighter before

 **Sannnnnie:** im the KING of surviving sleep deprivation

 **Sangieieie:** isnt something to be proud of but okkk

 **Sannnnnie:** anyway i’ll see u @ school

 **Sangieieie:** byeeeee

I shut off my phone, sliding it into the back pocket of my admittedly very tight ripped jeans. But of course, I can’t wear medium tightness clothes because my brace won’t fit over or under them. 

Today, I’ve paired black ripped jeans with an ACDC hoodie that I’ve cut the sleeves off of, my Docs, and a black choker. I actually put jewelry in my piercings for the first time in a while, so the four or five earrings on each ear glitter in the mirror, catching the rising sun. Black eyeliner and a very light brushing of black eyeshadow at the corners of my eyes finishes the look off. I know it’s probably too cold for this, but I’m in the mood to wear something edgy. And plus, I was always known as the rich Choi Corps goody-two-shoes, but I’m not that person anymore. I haven’t been that person for a while. 

I walk back out of my room, pouring the rest of the coffee I left on the counter into a thermos. “Sannie, you need to stop drinking so much coffee!” I roll my eyes at Hongjoong hyung, who’s nursing his own espresso. This has become a daily ritual for us. Hyung grabs his backpack from the floor as Seonghwa hyung walks in, still in pajamas. He back hugs me, his arms cold before grabbing his tea from the cabinet and taking it back to his room. 

My stomach growls, having been neglected since yesterday morning, but I ignore it, too preoccupied with the way my hair is falling into my eyes.

“Hyung, do you have a hair tie anywhere? I’m too lazy to go back to find one.” I ask Hongjoong hyung, and he hands me one that was hanging around his wrist. I tie up the red tips of my hair, gathering them into a small half-ponytail. I check the time. 7:35. 

“Hyung!” I call for Seonghwa. “Hurry up, we have to go!” After a long moment, his door cracks open, and he walks out in jeans and a hoodie. I look down at my shoes and at Hongjoong’s before looking back at Seonghwa and bursting out laughing.

Hongjoong follows my gaze confused, and begins to giggle a second later. Seonghwa looks down at his outfit, confused, before a small smile breaks out over his face. We may each have different band hoodies (or tee in Hongjoong hyung’s case), but our black ripped jeans and Doc Martens are nearly identical. 

“We’re literally just the gay emo kids,” I whisper out between my laughter, setting us all off again as we walk out of the apartment. The hyungs stop me before we can get in the elevator. 

“Sannie, we got you a present.” Seonghwa hyung passes me a small box, and I open it in anticipation. 

It’s a key. My eyes tear up as I realize how perfect it is for me. There’s a little Shiba Inu plush charm, similar to my Shiber, hanging off the keyring that it’s attached to, and the key itself is a burst of colors, purple exploding outwards, tumbling into blue and green and eventually fading into white. But asides from the appearance, I finally feel like I have a home, like I’m not just waiting for the inevitable day they kick me out. I belong at the hyung’s house- or I guess, I belong at our house. 

“Thank you, hyungs!” I hug them both tightly, clipping it onto my wallet. We ride down the elevator in a comfortable silence. The drive to school is slightly less silent, with all of us singing lyrics so loud that I’m sure the other drivers can hear us in their cars. Yeo and Jongho are waiting for us as normal, and the five of us go in together, all of us slipping in airpods. I get a few looks, fully aware that I rarely wear my preferred clothes to school. Normally it’s trousers and a graphic tee or plain shirt, but my parents never let me wear what they deemed “common street fashion” unless it was around the house or if I was wearing a mask and a hat. And I was never, ever allowed to wear my chokers. 

But I don’t care anymore. Seonghwa gives me a lingering hug before I limp into my homeroom class, my brace already feeling constricted around my knee, but I can’t put my foot up on anything, so I block out the dull throbbing starting from my circulation being cut off slowly.

Usually I’m thankful that Yeo sits next to me in my chemistry class, but it’s more of a problem now than ever because Daehyun sits right behind me. Usually, Yeosang’s too busy paying attention to actually realize, but now he’s focused on me more than ever. Of course, I still haven’t told them who exactly beat me up, but I know they have suspicions. 

My phone buzzes, and I freeze as Mrs. Park stops to look for whoever has their phones out. Luckily enough, I don’t get caught, but Changbin gets his phone confiscated. I feel a boot tip digging into my tailbone and groan internally. Leave it to Daehyun to start annoying me literally less than ten minutes into homeroom. 

The boot digs in harder, and I muffle a cry of pain as I continue to take notes on whatever gas laws we’re going over. To be honest, science has always interested me and I want to pay attention, but school is hell because everyone hates me. My hand keeps shaking on my notes whenever Dae pushes into my tailbone, pulsing with the drone of our teacher’s voice. Before I realize it, my stomach is rolling uncomfortably. I probably should have eaten something before I left home. 

_Cherish this feeling. It means you’re getting stronger._ A voice whispers inside my head. Horrifyingly, I think it may be right. I tamp down all of it, shaking my head slightly and using the pain of the steady nudge into my back to ground myself. 

The bell rings, echoing in my ears, and I limp down the hall into my precalculus class. Mr. Song has left the window cracked open despite the snow, and I shiver, goosebumps rising on my bare arms. I share a smile with Hwanwoong from across the room as our teacher begins talking about the laws of sines and cosines. But it’s really hard to concentrate because I have Songhun on the side of me, and he’s one of the bullies that beat me up that night. He isn’t physically annoying, but the whispered insults followed by smiles in my teacher’s direction make him think that it’s friendly. My breath begins quickening as one of the insults hits particularly close to home.

_I bet your parents think you’re a disgrace to the Choi name._

Mr. Song is more chill than most of my teachers, and he has a wicked sense of humour. His motto for class is “you don’t necessarily have to pay attention in my class, but if you fail then it's on you.” Honestly, I wish others had that same perspective because it lets us work at our own pace. I can feel my chest tightening even if Songhun has backed off of the family insults. I text Hwanwoong to make sure he’s okay with sharing notes with me later, and then I take my phone with me to the bathroom and lock myself in a stall. My hands start flying across the keyboard and send a text to whoever’s contact I pressed, even if I know consciously that it’s probably one of my friends and they’re in class.

 **Sannie <3: ** pls help me

The response is nearly immediate.

 **Hwaaa <3: ** whats wrong

 **Hwaaa <3:** im in class

Tears blur over my vision, hands shaking as I type out my location. My phone drops, but I’ve slid down the wall at some point, so hopefully it won’t crack too much. I muffle a sob, worried about it echoing out into the hallway. My breath speeds up, flinching as the door bangs open. 

“San-ah?” I whimper at the sound of Seonghwa hyung’s voice, and he tracks it to the stall I’m in, knocking gently. “Baby, please open the door.”

“H-hyung, please” It’s a sob, broken across both syllables, and it’s now that I’m happy how shitty school bathroom stalls are. He reaches through the crack in the door, unlocking the latch with a finger and coming in, already reaching for me. Hyung pulls me into his lap and pulls my hand over his chest. 

“Feel this, Sannie? You gotta follow it, okay?” His voice is soft, arms rubbing circles into my back as I focus on breathing. 

It takes several minutes, but I look up from his chest, met with a soft smile.

“There you are, baby,” he coos, chuckling as I blush. “You want to talk about it?” I shake my head just as the bell rings loudly, signaling the start of our break period, and I jump, but he hugs me tighter, lifting me gently to my feet. 

“You know, Joong’s pretty worried. I got permission to go to the bathroom, and texted him to cover my notes, and he shot me one of those looks. You know his like, worried look?” I nod, snuggling further into the warmth of Seonghwa’s embrace as I let his deep voice wash over me, bringing me down from the panic I felt earlier. 

“Anyway, let’s go talk to everyone else, hmm?” He nudges me gently out of his arms, still keeping one of them around my waist so I can stay close to him. I check my makeup in the mirror, thankful that I managed to cry without actually letting tears streak my eyeliner. 

We go through break relatively quietly, heading over to our hangout in the dance room. Mr. Lee, our dance teacher, lets us take over the place whenever we want. He was one of the first people to age out of SM Dance, and still has a pretty large following because he releases music in his spare time. He lets us vibe in here pretty much whenever. Thankfully, for now, our space remains empty. I ignore the concerned looks from pretty much everyone, choosing instead to perch on the corner of his desk and rubbing my knee gently. We talk and laugh, blasting music until the break is over. 

We all are in the choir, so the five of us troop through the halls. I grab my binder, mentally reading through the three new pieces. Jongho’s perfect pitch comes in handy, and he begins humming my part to me as I wait for Ms. Han to come in. I get high fives from everyone in my section that I’m friends with. 

Lunch goes as well as expected. Insoo “trips” and sends his coke flying over my pants, but I jump back fast enough to avoid the majority of it. My friends don’t see who did it, but I ignore their questions, ignoring my food (not that I was planning on eating it anyway) to soak up the remaining coke from my skin and jeans before it turns sticky. The rest of the day follows like that, English, Korean, art, and history. Daehyun shoots me a glare that just about says “come meet me after this” at the end of history class, and I follow him despite the sinking feeling in my gut. 

I text Joong that I’m going to walk to KQDA, grabbing my dance bag and backpack as we walk back into the empty hallway they always corner me in. 

A hit plows into my stomach. I was half expecting it, but normally they talk first. My bags drop to the side as Daehyun slams me side-first into a locker. 

“Thought you could be a hotshot, huh, San? Make sure you hide all of this from your friends. You wouldn’t want them thinking you’re too weak to fight back against us.”

My head hangs as I allow another kick to my shin to bring me to my knees. “See this, this is where you should be. Kneeling in front of us, acknowledging our dominance.” Still, I keep silent. 

“Bow.” The command rattles through my core. I look up. “No, are you fucking crazy!” I shout, trying to get up. Humiliation tears through me as I let out a grunt at the foot nudging my injured knee, keeping me down on the floor. 

“Bow, Sannie, and Songhun over here is going to get a video of it, going to prove that there’s nothing you can do. Because. You’re. Nothing.” I let the kicks to my back reverberate through my chest, bottling everything in. Finally, they get sick of me and back off. I stagger to my feet, pressing a hand to ribs that were still healing, re-aggravated. 

The walk to KQ is lonely, and I can’t help but to look into every ally, paranoid. I stole one of Hongjoong hyung’s discard demos called “Pirate King” as a surprise for Ateez, but he always says I can take those ones for dance since they’ll never go anywhere else. But other than that, I was up choreographing and mixing the others this morning. Two hours of sleep makes for a powerful creative spirit. 

I head into the bathroom and throw on a muscle tank and sweatpants, slipping out of my Docs and into my dance sneakers before shoving my bags in my locker. 

This is yet another partially unproductive practice. The Produce girls listen to the song I’ve given them, and begin to choreograph it. The rest of us listen to the three songs, breaking off into groups. Hwanwoong gives me a couple choreography ideas for the Oneus song, and I just walk between the groups, trying to visualize formations for the moves I’ve set and beginning to write them down in my notebook. It’s messy scribbles and lines, my color coding for each person being the only thing vaguely organized about it. I’ll solidify and re-write these later, but for now I allow myself to let go of the organization. 

At the end of practice, I make an announcement to the senior dancers. 

“For the showcase this year, we’re going to just do a compilation of our competition pieces this year. But, as usual, solos up to quartets can email or text me to audition, and we’ll have a collective audition when it gets closer to the date. If you want me to choreograph for you for that, give me the song you want mixed how you want it, please. Obviously, I’m not going to choreograph for everyone because the point is to showcase individuals, and everyone knows my style at this point.” Everyone leaves without much pomp after that, and I sigh, waiting for the junior pointe class to come in. Hwa hyung sits on the bench as I set the barres out in the middle of the floor, and I walk over to him after I notice. 

“Hyung, what are you doing?” I whisper to him as the kids start coming in. 

“Keeping you company!” I frown at the answer. I’m not used to anyone waiting for me.

“Hwa hyung, you don’t need to, I promise I’ll just walk back like I used to before.” I turn to the younger ones, checking their shoes for twists and knots in the ties as I slip my own on. 

Ballet was my first dance love, and even if I primarily do hip-hop, it never really left me. I still take the senior pointe class here in addition to the others that I take. And I teach it in addition. The junior company is mostly ten to fourteen, with a few outliers both younger and older. This class is mostly on the older side of that spectrum, having built up their ballet skill and culminating en pointe. Seonghwa hyung shoots me a concerned glance as I rise up onto the box, wobbling a bit as my knee locks. 

The class goes without much issue, my knee barely protesting save for the jumps. Hwa hyung sits patiently on the side the entire time. When their hour and a half is over, I prep for the next class, and he comes over to me with a frown. “I thought you only had comp and the junior pointe on Monday?”

I hide a sheepish grin. “I kind of maybe told Ms. Kim I could teach a couple more?” His frown deepens. “Sannie, why?”

“Well, you see, I feel bad that I’m staying at your house without helping to pay even though you and Joong hyung work your asses off for that place, so I could help more if I taught more. And plus, it's not like I really have a life outside of school and dance!” I protest.

The junior contemporary kids come in, but I don’t miss the whisper of “we’re talking later.” 

After my teaching is done, we get home around 10:45, and I immediately head to my room to shower and then finish my homework. Even if I was keeping up for the week after winter break that I was gone, it seems like the teachers doubled their normal homework load. Words start mixing around in my head around midnight, and I sneak into the kitchen quietly to grab coffee. 

I’m not expecting Hwa and Joong hyungs to both be upstairs, one of them crying. “Hyungs?” I call as I ascend the stairs. Joong hyung motions me towards his bed where the two of them are sitting. The piles of papers holding half written lyrics and music have been straightened into a line of stacks at the side, and I have a sinking suspicion it was Hwa hyung’s stress cleaning, given his current face-in-the-pillow situation. 

“We’re worried about you San. I know you have homework, so I won’t keep you too long, but you’re not okay and we can both tell.” My breath catches in my throat. 

“Wh-what do you mean hyungs, I’m fine!” Even I can tell it’s a half-assed attempt at lying. 

“San, you’re not eating, you’re not happy, you’re overworking yourself! Not to mention the fact that you felt you needed to pay for this place, when we would never make you do that. But don’t think we didn’t see bruises peeking out of the side cuts of your tank. Or the bandage on your back.” Hwa hyung bursts out, and I’m silent for a long moment, chewing the inside of my cheek. 

“First, I am eating, I’m literally awake before both of you and I ate dinner while I was doing my homework. Second, I’m not overworking myself, this is normal for me. I do think I need to help pay for this place because it’s just not fair to you guys, and about the last thing, it’s my fault and really only my business. It’s been a long day, so I’m going to finish my homework before Mr. Kim murders me tomorrow. Or I guess, later today.” I retort calmly, climbing off of the bed and going back to my room. They both let me go, but I’m sure I haven’t quelled the majority of their concern. No, it probably amplified it, if anything.


	10. Making Out But Make It Soft

The next two weeks pass much like the first day. Daehyun and his cronies haven’t backed off at all, rather getting worse, but my brace gets removed and I can throw myself back into dance with an intensity I’ve missed. The panic attacks at school become a near-daily occurrence, but I keep that to myself. 

Seonghwa and I haven’t talked much since we’re both busy, choosing to spend the minutes we have together with lips locked, tangled in the embraces of each other. Either that, or we provide silent encouragement for each other, doing homework or cuddling or going over the dance together. We haven’t gone any further than over the clothes, but I’m not sure I want to yet. Plus, there’s the bruises littering my ribcage.

“Can this come off, Sannie?” I remember him tapping the hem of my shirt, his breath fanning over a mark sucked into the space just under my collarbone, assuming a yes from my nod, but the knowledge of what lay carefully concealed from everyone else had hit me like a pile of bricks, and I had pushed him off before I even knew what was going on.

“Hyung, not yet?” I had whispered questioningly. He had squeezed my hands encouragingly, accepting my boundaries and moving to lie beside me.

That was a week ago, and I can feel him getting more impatient as I continue to refuse to go any further. Knowing hyung, though, he won’t voice it, content with our hungry kisses and wandering hands. But I know he wants more, wants to bring out the more dominant side of him, unleashed and without consequence.

Everything comes to a head on a Friday morning. We’ve gotten a snow day, so the three of us are sitting around the kitchen counter, each with a mug of hot cocoa and k-rnb playing in the background. Seonghwa hyung and I fell asleep in my room together on top of textbooks and stray papers, but I woke up at least three hours earlier than either of the hyungs. I stole one of his fluffy sweaters, and the white fabric slips off of my shoulder, revealing collarbones that I’m well aware are becoming sharper and more defined by the day. My hair has remained tied into a little ponytail, the red fading to blend in with the rest of my natural color. The glasses that I so rarely wear around others are perched on my nose because I was just not going to deal with contacts on a day off. 

All in all, Seonghwa has been eyeing me this whole time, even though I look like an absolute mess. Hongjoong hyung leaves after a bit to go work on some tracks, and Seonghwa hyung immediately leans over the counter to kiss off the mustache of milk foam across my upper lip. “You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?” He all but growls, pulling me away from the kitchen and into my room. I follow him, allowing him to shove me onto the bed and straddle my hips. A hungry kiss steals away my breath, and I wrap one hand around hyung’s back, the other fisting in the sheets at my side. 

We part, the string of saliva between us breaking as Seonghwa sucks harshly into my collarbones. I whine, forcing the tense muscles in my neck to relax. “These have been bothering me all morning, you know that? Seeing you in my sweater, knowing that you’re mine, San.” The last sentence is low in his throat, and his hands begin exploring under my shirt. I go to slip off my glasses, but hyung keeps them on, whispering something dirty in my ear that has me going red. My nails rake down his back, more subconsciously than willfully, and he groans above me. I begin gently pressing kisses to his face, forehead, neck, anywhere that I can reach from this position at the mercy of my hyung. 

My wrists pop as Hwa yanks them up near my head. “Think you can be a good boy and keep these up here, baby?” His breath is hot over my ear, and I nod, finally letting go of myself. I stare up at hyung, my eyes half-lidded as I pant. 

“Need you, Hwa, please,” his hands haven’t left their grip on my wrists, but suddenly that pressure is gone. Along with all the pressure along my body, against the heat in my core. 

I’m on the floor, kneeling next to the bed before I even realize what’s happening. “That’s hyung to you, baby,” he warns, shucking off his pajama pants. I go to get up and join our lips together once more, but a look stops me. 

“Sannie, baby, I want you to stay here for a bit and remember who has the power, okay?” I squirm at the wetness staining my boxers, the command in hyung’s tone setting my insides alight. His hand finds its place in my hair, tugging at the strands as I finally understand the position. “D-does hyung want me to-” I’m cut off. 

“Good boys don’t talk, baby. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” He checks once, making sure I’m truly okay with what’s happening. My nod is affirmation enough, and I remain on my knees for a minute that feels stretched into an hour. My hands drift southward, circling once or twice around the front of my pants. I suppress a filthy moan, arching into the pressure of my own hand.

“What are you doing?” The tone is sharp, accusatory, and I immediately withdraw my hand. “Hyung told you to stay where you were. That meant hands, too.” He pulls me to standing quickly before walking over to the desk and pulling the chair out.

“I want you to sit in my lap, Sannie, and you’re not going to say a word. You’re going to sit there and be still while I finish my work.” I happily crawl onto his lap, a bit unhappy when he completely ignores me, but gentle pressure on my hips keeps them pinned to his thigh, and I eventually slip into a calmer mindset.

I allow myself to get lost in the hazy fog of this headspace, nearly falling asleep as I sit there for what feels like hours, the sweater slipping further and further off of my shoulder.

I’m snapped out of my fog with a quiet “Sannie-ah,” allowing myself to be pulled up and led over to the bed. The hungry want from before has disappeared, replaced with something softer. He sits me down on the bed, checking my knees gently to make sure they haven’t been hurt by sitting in the same place for so long. Bone deep exhaustion rattles over me in waves as I finally let myself stop and breathe. I stretch out like a cat when I yawn, following Hwa hyung’s grip on my sweater paws into the living room. 

“Hwa hyung, ‘m tired,” I whine as he sits us down, snuggling into the winter day scent that’s so calming for me. 

“Sleep, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, rubbing our noses together gently. I blush, allowing my face to mash into his stomach. Whatever we just did was strangely calming, and I’m slightly confused. But that’s an issue for another day.

“Promise to wake me up for practice later,” I grumble, my last words before I fall into the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last prewritten chapter I have, so my posting schedule will be more spread out after today. I'll try and post at least twice a week but we'll see with school, sports, and stuff. Anyway, thanks for sticking around this far!


	11. The Second Strike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW graphic violence (bullying), panic attack(ish?)

We don’t talk about it for the next few weeks, but it starts as a habit. As competitions start and my stress is heightened, I spend more time with Hwa hyung, finishing my homework and then sitting under either of our desks depending on where we work. Letting myself go, allowing myself to get lost in a headspace I still haven’t explored, it’s difficult at first, but slowly becomes a coping mechanism, spending time near Hwa hyung without control over what I’m doing. Hwa hyung chuckles fondly whenever I come into his room and just plop on his lap, letting him move me wherever he wants while he games or finishes his work. 

It still can’t stop the sheer amount of stress building up. Daehyun hasn’t stopped, and it’s getting harder and harder to hide the bruises. I took off the bandages covering the mark he gave me, looked once in the mirror, and had a panic attack so bad that I threw up. Hwa hyung is still being kind, letting us go at whatever pace I want, but it’s been two months. 

Hongjoong hyung continues to get busier and busier as his name gets rocketed to the top of the hit producers list, getting calls from rookies and even some famous groups. He actually owns his own studio now, and he and Eden work together sometimes, but hyung is his own boss. 

Meanwhile, Mrs. and Mx. Kim have officially and publicly announced me as the heir to KQ, causing an uproar in the media. They still think I live with my parents, though, so the press is concentrated there instead of my actual home. We’ve been getting further and further into qualifiers, and the regional competition is next week, so I’m increasing my hours in both KQ and my home studio. My sleep schedule has been sacrificed indefinitely, but I hide it behind concealer and coffee.

It’s the second to last day before spring break when Daehyun and his friends get bad enough that they ignore the usual “keep it soft enough that I can hide it.” I just retreat far into myself, into that place where I can’t be broken, and ignore the blows raining everywhere. 

“Sannie, you really thought you could just ignore our offer from a couple months ago and never be punished for it?” Daehyun sneers. That damned switchblade comes out again, and Insoo rips the bandage off of where his mark has been.

“No, stop, please!” I scream, but it’s no use as he begins twisting the knife into the top point of the mark.

I try to get away, but I can’t. I’m weak.

I don’t know how long it takes before they leave, and I’m left on the ground shuddering, pulling my shirt back over my head and using an old tattered hoodie that I keep in my dance bag as a rag to wipe away whatever blood coats my back. 

When I get to KQ, my whole body aching again, I’m met with a concerned Seonghwa walking me to Studio B, an arm around my bruised shoulders. “Sannie? Baby, where were you?” There’s worry coating his voice. I’m never this late to practice.

“Sorry, I know I’m late. I got held up at school.” It’s a bullshit lie, my throat raw and my voice hoarse, not to mention the wince every time I walk. 

“San.” His voice is sharp. I flinch at the tone, and he softens a bit. “Baby, there’s something you’re not telling me, and I’m really scared. Listen, it’s just Ateez tonight, why don’t we take a day off-”

“Hyung we have the regional comp in a week, we can’t just take a day off because I got beat up!” Hyung’s brows furrow, the concern growing. I really, really need to stop letting my emotions get the best of me. Oh, and lucky for me, every single person in Ateez heard it loud and clear. 

“You’re sitting out for today.” Yeosang is pissed, his tone leaving no room for argument. The others nod their assent, Hwa hyung forcing me to sit down. 

“Guys, I’m fine, this is normal.” It’s a weak protest.

“Who’s been doing this to you, San hyung?” Jongho rarely pushes, but they all look concerned, even Woo and Yunho. 

Seonghwa hyung tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, and I’m so tired that I slip without even realizing it. 

“Hwa hyung, they hurt me,” I whine, wincing at a tight embrace but allowing it nonetheless. 

“And I’m so sorry that we couldn’t be there for you. But can you tell me who?”

“Can’t tell hyung, don’t want them to hurt you…” Hongjoong starts to say something, but is silenced by Hwa hyung, who noses my temple gently. “Can you please tell hyung what happened tonight, at least?” My insides tense up, but I relax into Seonghwa’s hoodie, and the knowledge that I’m safe compels me to speak. 

“Wasn’t anything new, hyung they just hit me a lot. But my back really hurts.” I can tell his interest has been piqued. 

“What happened to your back, aegi?” It’s a soft request, accompanied by hands through my hair. I can’t dredge it up from my memory, the unintelligible pain. A sudden wave of panic overtakes me, and I begin crying.

“I don’t want to remember, it was really painful, hyung, I’m really sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stop it.” I’m shushed gently, everyone coming over and forming a big circle on the floor. 

“They cut you somehow, didn’t they.” The quiet exclamation carries throughout the entire room, comes from somewhere on my left, everyone else paling at the sentiment as they finally realize what I meant. Because obviously, a scar the size of the one this will leave could literally ruin my dance career before it heals over fully. And if it’s deep enough to slice through muscle, I could lose the flexibility in my back.

“Can hyung ask one last question, Sannie?” I shake my head, already gasping for breath. 

“Hey, hey, baby, calm down, take a nice deep breath for hyung,” Seonghwa hyung calms me down gently, and exhaustion hits me yet again. 

“Should we end practice early, San-ssi?” Wooyoung asks timidly. I get up and walk over to him, shaking off the shouts of worry when I limp a few steps. “Wooyoung, you’re part of the team now, cut the -ssi bullshit. I’m only a couple months older than you.” I don’t think he’s prepared for the koala hug I ensconce him within.

“We’re still practicing today.” I silence the protests with a hand. “We’re going to regionals in just over a week. Formations are still sloppy, and we haven’t properly cemented angles and such. There’s still work to do, and until it’s good enough, we’re going to keep practicing.”

“But you’re still sitting out, right San?” Hongjoong presses, his voice thin. 

“No, we can’t do formations without everyone.” My voice is calm, a sharp contrast to the emotions swelling through the studio.

“Dude, you’re injured!” Yunho bursts from behind me.

“We still won nationals last year when I was like this, didn’t we?” 

“San, it’s not healthy-” 

“I don’t give a damn!” Everyone halts at the outburst. “I don’t give a damn about my health, I’m the dance captain and I know what I’m doing. Please just trust me.” It’s silent for a long moment, and I connect my phone to the system.

“No.” Seonghwa's voice echoes through the room, quiet but seething, and I whip my head around as he stands up, volume increasing as tears begin to leak out of his eyes. “No, you don’t get to pull rank. You might be captain, but we’re a team. I'm your hyung. And I’m your fucking boyfriend. _Sit down._ ”

We stare at each other, tense, before I click my tongue and play the song. 

"I'm not pulling rank, hyung. I'm putting my team first. Let's practice, guys!" Everyone reluctantly gets into position.

Thankfully, after a few runs, the events of today are forgotten and practice continues as normal. Bar Seonghwa hyung, who's facial expressions remain unflinchingly cold the entire time.

“Mx. Kim?” Hongjoong hyung calls at the end of practice when they walk by, and I falter, my pointe shoes tied halfway. Everyone else is midway through cool down stretches, joking around with each other, but they silence a bit so Joong can talk. Mx. Kim pokes their head in questioningly.

“San was really badly hurt today, and we let him participate in our practice because of regionals, but I really think he shouldn’t do his last few classes. He has to teach the junior pointe and junior contemporary, and then he has his pointe class with Mrs. Kim. I just don’t think it’d be safe.” Mx. Kim looks at me, then back at hyung.

“Joong, I’d love to pull him off rotation, but you know the kids learn better from him, and the gala is coming up. Sannie, if you’re okay with it, you can teach, just take it easy. But for sure, don’t go to your last class, okay? Eunbi will understand, and your pointe solo is coming along really well, from what she tells me.” I tie my pointe shoes pointedly, and Mx. Kim tsks lightly. 

“San, if it wasn’t crunch time, you know you would be off for the rest of the week. Even now, just please take it easy. Don’t dance more than you need to. Oh, and I know Minju and Niki and maybe a few others were forgetting to really roll through their feet when they went up, so maybe just use today as a barre day.” I nod, testing the arches in my shoes. I frown as I notice my shaft giving me a little less resistance than normal, setting a reminder in my phone to get new ones soon.

Seonghwa hyung waiting for me has become a habit, and the junior kids have all befriended him. But he simply shoots me a glare and walks out with Joong hyung. I get a series of texts as soon as they get out of the room.

 **Joong hyung:** i'll come get u after practice. hwa just needs time, u've really irresponsible with ur health and he cant keep watching u break urself down

 **Joong hyung:** we dont blame u and we care whether or not u believe us 

**Joong hyung:** we're all rly worried so pls try and take care of urself <3

 **Sannie:** k hyung, thx <3

My lip begins quivering without me even realizing. I’m really not worth anyone's time time; I’ve depended on Hwa hyung too much for support to get through long, exhausting days. I sit up straighter, snapping myself out of sadness. 

_I can’t depend on someone who probably only likes me out of pity._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a few days until the next chapter because I have a big debate tournament, but I'll try to get something out when I have time this weekend!


	12. The Fallen Heirs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW referenced bullying, referenced child abuse, tiny lil spiral moment

Seonghwa hyung still comes into my room once I get back, touching my arm tenderly before climbing up to the nook and settling himself with his phone. I know I fucked up. But nowhere inside of me can I even fathom taking a break for such a stupid reason.

I take a break around 2 AM. _Maybe I should try that caffeine thing I did before midterms,_ I think, getting up. It’s just now that I realize I’m still wearing my dance clothes, so I shuck them off and step into the shower, wincing as the reopened wound on my back pulls. I barely stop a scream of pain as scalding water washes over it, but I bite my lip and deal with the burning while I clean it out and wash sweat off the rest of my body. The tension in my muscles works itself out while I stand under the hot spray, allowing my mind to wander far, far away from the hell I’ve trapped myself in. 

“Sannie? You okay?” A distant voice calls, fuzzy. 

“Don’t wanna come back,” I mumble automatically before snapping out of it, standing stick straight as I realize that Seonghwa hyung is literally right next to the shower. 

“San, are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.” He asks again, and I see his shadow inching closer through the fogged up glass. 

“I-I’m fine hyung, I was just trying to loosen my muscles.” I call back, stuttering as I shut the water off and grab the towel hanging over the top of the shower rod. 

“Oh, sorry, I was just worried. Do you want a massage or something?” This is the most awkward we’ve had in years, to be quite honest. But nonetheless, I wrap the towel around my shoulders, hiding the bruises on my chest and allowing my hair to leave tracks of water on my neck. 

Stepping out, I try for a smile, but I’m well aware that it comes out as a tired and stressed grimace. “I’m okay, hyung.”

“Please try to sleep soon, it’s really hard to fall asleep without you.” The raw sincerity in Hwa hyung’s tone comes across even as his natural sleepy aegyo comes through. 

“Why…?” It comes out broken, distressed, _vulnerable_. Because that’s all I am. 

But hyung merely cocks his head sideways. “Why what?” 

“Why do you still want to be around me?” I finally lift my gaze from my feet, making eye contact with him as my lip wobbles, and I furiously blink back tears. This is really the wrong place to have this discussion.

“Oh Sannie…” He says my name softly, opening up his arms. 

“Hyung, I’ll get your shirt wet,” I protest, but he merely wiggles his fingers towards me. 

“A shirt is replaceable, your wellbeing isn’t.” Instead of waiting for me to hesitate, he simply steps forward to fold me into his embrace. I take a deep breath, a single tear fighting its way out of the corner of my eye despite my attempts to stop it. My arms come up to hang loosely around hyung’s hips, the towel only staying up because it’s pinned between the two of us. 

Seonghwa’s hands come up to my shoulders, ensuring I cover myself before he lifts me onto the counter. 

“Hyung, what are you doing?” I ask, my voice thick. The mirror is fogged, but I can see cracks of myself in the places it hasn’t covered. There are bruises peeking out of my towel even now, painting a sunset of colors across my upper arms and chest. My eyes are red, eyebags deep and tinged with gleaming liquid. But Seonghwa hyung embraces it all as he comes over with another towel and starts gently rubbing at my hair. “You’ll catch a cold in March weather if you don’t dry your hair off.” He scolds gently. I simply sit in silence, content to let Seonghwa take care of everything. Hyung may not say it in words, but this is his apology for earlier. 

“Can I take off the towel Sannie? I need to see what they did to you.” I whine at him, fatigue swimming over me now that I’ve taken time to relax. 

“Baby, please? Your life is so precious, I’m worried they’re going to hurt you, and one day, you won’t be able to heal from it.” He continues, his voice catching at the end. He notes my hesitance, rubbing at the nape of my neck gently. It’s the concern in his voice that has me nodding shyly, allowing the towel to slip just a little bit.

“Just a little bit at a time, I promise I’ll just go inch by inch if that’s what you need. And if it’s too much, you can tell me and I’ll stop,” he repeats as he traces the outlines of the bruises shaped like fists. First with his fingers, then with his mouth. He kisses them gently.

“You’re so strong, San,” he murmurs against my skin. I shake my head almost imperceptibly.

“But, hyung, I couldn’t stop them, I was too weak.” 

“I don’t mean physical strength.” He tugs the towel down further, so it pools halfway down my arms. He runs the pads of his calloused fingers over these ones, spanning across my chest and darker than the ones above. Again, presses kisses. Almost comes close to licking a few of them. 

“Hyung…” I whine, something coiling in my gut. He pauses over the top of the scar permanently etched into my left pectoral, slashing starkly white and slightly raised against the rainbow adorning my body. 

His breath is a whisper against my skin. “Who did this to you?”

“My parents,” I return softly, an equally low whisper. 

“I’ll fucking murder them.” The words frighten me, sending a small part of my mind spiralling back and back to where I got that scar from-

“Hey, hey, Sannie, come back, it’s okay, you’re safe now.” I curl my hand around the edge of the counter, biting my lip until I feel the skin break. The pain is grounding, but Seonghwa hyung replaces my teeth with his own lips, forcing me to let go of the punishing grip I have on myself. It’s a quick peck, licking softly over the puncture on my bottom lip. 

I come back to lavender and lemon, the soft scents of hyung’s shampoo floating into my nose. Hyung pulls the towel down just a bit more, and I wince as it pulls lightly on my back. The scar on my heart is exposed in its entirety. But Hwa is less focused on that. 

“Where are you hurt, Sannie?” He searches my eyes intently. I had meant to hide this from him, and I look down as the coil of pleasant heat in my gut is replaced by a snake-like, oily curve, filling my senses with shame. _I deserve to be ashamed of myself for this,_ I tell myself, shrugging.

“I’m never going to be ashamed of you, and you never deserved to be ashamed of something out of your control.” So I said that aloud. But his words comfort me, forcing that snake to begin dissolving. I gesture to my back, and he turns me around, touches light across my shoulders. 

“San. _San._ ” My name falls from his lips like a gasp, breathless and bordering on a whimper. “Sannie, this isn’t real.” 

“I haven’t looked at it, hyung ‘m scared,” The mumble comes out, my breath quickening as I allow Seonghwa hyung to hug me lightly and rest his chin on my shoulder. The hug tightens, as though he’s scared to let me go.

“We need to get Joong, we need to go to court for this, I’m going to fucking destroy him.” His voice turns into a growl, the reverberations of his threat sending tingles down my shoulders.

“Hyung, what is it…?” A whimper really does escape him then.

“It’s the,” he swallows hard, “it’s the logo of Park Inc.” My hand shakes as I grab my phone from the other corner of the counter, meaning to look them up. I’ve heard of them, but not what could be so bad about them. A hand pushes the phone away. 

“I was their heir…” His breathing quickens, and I take his hand in my grasp as I set my phone down. 

“Hyung, it’ll be okay-”

“No, you don’t understand!” His eyes are suddenly ablaze. “My parents’ company is an export business, sure, but they’re powerful. If they put this on you, it’s because they think you’re going to be an issue to me. And if Daehyun put this on you-”

My head jerks up to meet his eyes. “How’d you know it was Daehyun?”

“It’s not hard to figure out. It’s always him, Songhun, Sang, or Insoo bothering you. And they’re all like his psycho little gremlins, so I’ve known for a while. I just didn’t want to push you,” he explains bluntly.

“I thought your parents kicked you out.” It’s faint, cautious, but the words hang there for a second. Hyung looks agitated, running his hands through his hair. 

“They did, but I’m their fallen heir. My little sister is taking over, but I’m still reflecting on the Park name in their opinion. So they try to ‘look out’ for me. This same thing happened to Joong. We need to talk to him tomorrow, make a plan to keep all of us safe.”

My mind is reeling, trying to process all of this, but hyung squeezes my hand once, twice. “You’ll be okay, I promise. Just, don’t go anywhere alone anymore. And I’m going to make sure Daehyun keeps his filthy paws off of you.” 

“O-okay,” I mutter my assent before re-securing the covering I have as a shiver racks through me, cold marble biting at my thighs. Thankfully, Seonghwa hyung notices and resumes his mother-henning. 

“Aish, you need to get dressed before you get a cold.” Hyung runs out of my room quickly to go grab one of his hoodies for me after I shyly ask for one. I throw on boxers in his absence, forgoing pajama pants. He returns with a soft pink hoodie with blue color blocks on the sleeves that hangs to mid thigh. It smells like home to me, and we exit the bathroom together, ignoring the studying I should probably do in favor of cuddling together in my covers. It must be at least 3 AM now, if not closer to 4. Hyung falls asleep quickly, his breaths evening out as I admire the city lights filtering across his face in a kaleidoscope. He looks soft like this, as though he hasn’t been forced to grow up as fast as he has. His tongue has poked out in that little blep he does sometimes subconsciously, and I reach for my phone carefully, snapping a picture of him with his hair fluffed out around him, having snatched one of my softer tees while I wasn’t paying attention. 

And finally, nestled in my bed, Seonghwa hyung draped over me protectively, I allow myself to think through everything I’ve been told.

Seonghwa hyung actually wants me. This isn’t just pity. But also, Dae and his friends are apparently working for Hwa’s parents, and I’m a target because of the guy I lov- wait. 

I _love_ him. Shit.

I can’t do love. Haven’t been able to since I’ve been told I was wrong, that I was a freak. Never even loved my parents all that much. This realization awakens something inside me, a soaring chasm waiting to be filled with either joy or hate. As if he can hear my thoughts, hyung nestles closer to me in his sleep, letting out a little happy noise as I tilt my head back and peck his nose gently.

He looks so calm like this, free from the burden he constantly carries, and I’m almost 99% sure I fall asleep with a tender smile on my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all this fic is a beast I can no longer control and I don't have more than a vague idea of where it's getting. Sorry if this is a kind of bad chapter, I've been busy lately and I just needed stress relief so it's not particularly *artistic*. Comments and kudos really help as motivation! (Also, I wasn't expecting more than 10 hits??? Like, how did this get more than that???) Anyway, I'll try to post by Wednesday, but the track season is starting and my dance concert is this weekend so idk how much time I'll have. Thanks for the support!


	13. Pushing Too Hard, Too Fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW eating disorder, fainting  
> (everyone make sure to eat something today pls!)

“No, this isn’t fucking happening.” Hongjoong hyung looks more stressed than I’ve ever seen him. “Hwa, those people, I can deal with it but San, you’re just a _kid_.” I’m sitting between the hyungs on the sofa out on the balcony, a rare day of sunshine providing stark contrast to the atmosphere. Hongjoong hyung has called us all in sick. If the admin found it strange, they didn’t comment. 

“I know it’s fucked up, and I want to keep San safe, but we need a plan. It’s not going to be easy to avoid people as powerful as my parents.” Both of the hyungs’ voices have worn thin, stressed and scared. 

“Hyungs, ‘m fine. As much as you might want to, you can’t always protect me, we’re in like none of the same classes and I spend so much time at the studio that you’d be losing sleep,” I argue, pulling Hwa hyung’s hoodie further up as Hongjoong fixes a pointed look at my exposed collarbones, a bite elegantly adorning the underside of my leather choker, made earlier this morning as hyung and I lazed around in bed.

“That’s it, I need to call Yeo and the rest, they can help us-”

“No.” It’s firm, carried from my own mouth before I realize I’ve said it. “No, I’m not letting my friends sacrifice their lives for me. I can handle myself. I’ve been handling Dae and his group for _years_ , hyungs. I know what I’m doing.” Both of them look conflicted, pained.

“San, if Daehyun is working for my parents, then he can probably do more than just fistfight. Have you literally never wondered why he’s had a switchblade close enough to him to do this to you in the first place?” Hongjoong hyung retorts, and I’m silent for a long moment.

I really didn’t ever think about it, but I take a deep breath and spill one of my deepest secrets. “Hyung, I’m going to tell you something. Everything Daehyun can use, I can probably use at his level if not better.”

Seonghwa hyung understands, nodding gently, but Hongjoong looks more confused than ever. “Sannie, I can too, but that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

“That doesn’t mean anyone else should have to at my expense either hyung,” I counter, and I can see it in his eyes that he will relent. 

“Fine. I’m assuming you brought your stuff when you moved out?” He asks. I nod and begin to list off the inventory I hoped I’d never have to use.

“Wait, wait, wait, Hwa, San, you two have been hiding weapons in this house?” Joong breaks in, looking at both of us accusingly.

“Yeah, our parents made us both learn how to use them.” Seonghwa hyung explains. “But honestly, can we please keep those as a last resort?” Everyone here has been hurt by them, and none of us are fond of them, obviously. So the decision to keep them hidden away, save for the knives I usually have in my boots, remains. 

“Sannie, and you don’t have to answer this, but why did you never fight back if you knew how?” Hongjoong’s question is innocent, cautious. But I swallow hard, trying to find the words.

“I was never the violent one in my family to begin with. But, I can’t risk getting in trouble. Dae has more influence than I do because he’s got most of the teachers wrapped around his finger, and I’m just the fallen heir of Choi Corps, you know? So there’s no way the teachers would listen to me if I hurt him. I mean, honestly, the biggest reason is ‘cause it’s easier to just take it. If you fight back, they hurt you more.” My voice is reduced to a whisper, my throat swallowing the words I want to say, but they hang there, unspoken.

_It’s what I was taught to do._

Seonghwa hyung pulls me into his arms gently, allowing me to snuggle into his neck. 

“They’re not going to hurt you again, okay?” Hongjoong speaks up from behind me. He joins the hug, a comforting weight that carefully avoids my upper shoulders. And the three of us lay there, soaking up sun and allowing the burden on our shoulders to lift, just for a little while. 

\--------------------------------------------------

School doesn’t change too much, except Seonghwa and Hongjoong hyung have taken to meeting me outside my classes whenever they can. And I start thinking more and more about Seonghwa hyung whenever Daehyun jabs at my shins under my desk. It gets to a point where I begin curling into him during lunch, forgoing food to feign sleeping. My friends leave me alone about it, knowing how fucked up my sleep schedule is right now. With five days left until regionals, the dizzy spells and constant pain in my stomach has become normal. My oversized clothes have become more than just oversized, but my lines are sharper whenever I dance, and I feel lighter whenever we jump. It’s working.

But weeks of pushing too hard, too fast are catching up to me. I’m alone at KQ after classes, finalizing choreography for Oneus when my vision blurs, stars spotting across my vision as music hammers bass into my brain. Still, I push, promising myself one more run through.

 _I’ll eat after regionals are over._ I promise myself, getting back into position.

I never get to finish the run. Because I’m shaking in place, falling, _I should probably call Hwa hyung,_ and then there’s nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to post again by the end of the week. This one's really short but I didn't want to stretch out the chapter with too much + my mental capacity just yeeted down the drain bc depression is a bitch so uh yeah


	14. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW child abuse, nightmare, panic attack, vomiting, use of the r-word

“-nie? Sannie?” My head is pillowed by something soft, and worried voices flit over me as I groan quietly. I crack open an eye before immediately shutting it, the bright fluorescent lights stabbing me in the eye. The brightness against my eyelids disappears, and I open my eyes tentatively before I’m smothered in hugs. 

“What happened?” Yeosang asks, and I think back to last night, confused, before it hits me at once. The dizzy feeling, the runs I did until my legs were jelly, the fleeting moment of panic before I fell. 

“Nothing,” I croak out unconvincingly. “I’m just tired. I guess I spent too long running through the choreo and I passed out. What time is it?” 

No one answers, and I look out the window, seeing the sunrise burst across the room all at once. But it’s March, and the sun doesn’t rise until 6:30 anymore. “Didn’t we have a morning practice today? At 5:30?” 

Silence. I catch Yunho’s eyes and stumble upward as soon as he pretty much confirms silently that _yes, we did have a practice, and yes, I fucking missed it because I was too weak to run through a dance more than twenty times._

“San, we’re not practicing with you today. Woo and Jongho were waiting for you in the other studio when we got here, but you weren’t there so we came in here and you were just passed out. It’s like, 6:30 right now, so we figured it would be better if we just skipped practice today and came back later tonight _once you’ve actually eaten something._ ” Yeosang’s voice hardens at the end, tense and fragile. I flick my eyebrows up ever so much in surprise, but Hongjoong catches it. 

“Sannie, how long has it been since you’ve eaten?” He asks cautiously. I take a moment to think, filtering through the last days, but all that I can remember is homework, practice, pain, Seonghwa hyung. 

“I think last Thursday, maybe?” It’s hesitant, “I really don’t remember, hyung.” The soft gasps from around me tell me that something’s wrong, but I honestly can’t think of anything weird that’s been happening lately.

“San, you don’t need to do that, you don’t need to starve yourself to be loved or perfect, you’re perfect as you are,” Hwa hyung rushes in as I stumble, pressing kisses to my hair between frantic murmurs. 

“Hyung…? There’s nothing wrong though?” It’s phrased as a question, and Yeo steps in again, his voice having lost some of its sharpness.

“San, we love you, you know that? But this isn’t normal, this isn’t safe. And I need you to take care of yourself, we need you to be healthy because you’re our captain, you hold us together,” he explains.

My stomach growls loudly, and I whip my hands over my abdomen, willing it to stop because everyone’s faces have lost the majority of their seriousness. 

“Let’s go get some breakfast from the store down the street, yeah?” Hwa hyung says, smiling at everyone. “My treat.”  
\--------------------------------------------------

I’m in bed later that night, alone for the first time in a while, when it happens. 

_“You never could fight back, could you, Sannie? What happened to being strong, huh? What happened to getting good grades, huh?” my dad snarls in my ear, ignoring the groans I let out as he lugs me up and slaps me hard across the face. A cut across my shoulder reignites as he digs a finger into it, and I cry out, but he drops me harshly._

_“Make another fucking noise and I’ll kill you,” he says, stomping hard on my leg, just hard enough to not fracture it. I close my eyes, tears leaking out to create paths of salty water over the blood on my face. He rips off my shirt, forcing me to kneel, but I’m too tired to fight back._

It’ll only make it worse if I fight back, _I reason with myself. Even as the belt strikes lines into my skin, turning my back into a slab of meat. Even as I can smell the drunkenness permeating the room simply from his breathing._

_“Next time, don’t be such a fucking loser. You’re my son, you’re the Choi Corps heir, and you’re nothing more than a little whiny retard who couldn’t string together a progress report if you tried. Let this be a reminder, San. And grow up.”_

I bow off my mattress, a scream already fighting its way out of my throat. But I lock it down tight, choosing instead to stumble across my room and promptly lose my dinner into the toilet. I hunch over the toilet for several minutes, breathing hard as my knees eventually collapse beneath me.

Pushing myself up, I wipe spit and bile off and wash out my mouth with a few mouthfuls from the sink, shuddering on weak legs. I’m still shaking from the nightmares, from remembering the scars on my back that have faded with time to be almost unnoticeable. 

“Hyung,” I cry out brokenly as I delve into sobs once more, fully aware that no one will hear me since even Hongjoong hyung fell asleep tonight at a good time. I’m gasping through the pain in my chest, and manage to press the play on my phone before dropping it and letting music filter through the bathroom, trying to calm my breaths. But all I can think of over the hammering in my head is that I should’ve tried harder, that I was never good enough, that no one could ever want me. 

Black stars pop across my vision, and I blindly hit some contact on my phone, hoping it goes through to someone I trust. 

“San, why are you calling me? It’s three am, and we live literally in the same-” Seonghwa notices my problem at the same time that I brokenly whine out his name.  
“Babe?”

“Hyung, please, can’t breathe,” I gasp out before the tremors wracking through me become too much and my phone falls again, my body following barely two seconds later.

“Baby, breathe, I’m coming. I’m going to start counting, okay?” His voice swims in and out of my ears, and I dimly process the footsteps pounding their way down the corridor as I try to blindly allow the numbers to control my breathing. 

But it’s not working, and all I can feel is pain, pain, pain-

Hyung skids to his knees before me, ending the call and raking his eyes over my sobbing figure. I claw out blindly, needing to feel something, make sure that this is real and I’m not going to go back. He gets the message and presses me sideways against his heart. It may be beating fast, but it’s real, he’s real.

“Sannie, please, let’s do a little exercise together. Can you name five things you see?” His voice is gentle, washing over my ears, and I manage to stutter something out coherently, because he hums happily and pulls me a fraction of an inch closer. 

“Good job! Four things you can feel?”

“Uh, my socks, the floor, my phone, a-and Seonghwa hyung,” I sniffle miserably as I can feel the thing binding my lungs finally loosen just a bit. But then something brushes on the very edge of the recent brand on my back, and I’m spiraling again. A hand on my shoulder stops me from pushing my hands into my hair to tug at the strands there.

“C’mon, take a deep breath, it’s okay, you’re safe,” he coaxes me gently to breathe, and I manage to push away some of the pain as he begins humming along to whatever song is playing under his breath. 

“Three things you can hear, whenever you’re ready.”

“Uh, my music, hyung’s heartbeat, and hyung’s humming.” My breath shortens almost automatically, but Hwa’s hand is calmly moving to my chest, pushing lightly at my sternum. 

“Hey, hey, deep breaths, c’mon.” I take a breath that’s just a little too long and cough harshly, but I feel a lot more calm if hazier than normal. 

“That’s it, Sannie, two things you can smell?” 

“Hyung’s hoodie and the body wash.” This one’s easier, my brain functioning more now that there’s actually oxygen reaching it. 

“And one thing you can taste?” I lean back a little from his heart to look straight into his eyes. The haze that so often overtakes me when I’m exhausted is back, and I pull hyung down, my hands on the collar of his hoodie. We melt into each other at the first touch, letting out a sigh in near tandem. 

“Hwa hyung,” I declare quietly, both in answer to his question and because I’m calmer than I’ve been in a while. Fatigue finally settles deep in my bones as waves of pain cascade over me. Finally allowing myself to feel something has its downsides, because now I’m feeling everything at once and it’s too much. I whimper, bringing my hands down to hug myself.

Hwa hyung notices the change, gently cooing over me. “Baby, what hurts?” 

_Everything,_ I want to say. 

“‘m fine,” I mutter instead, a blatant lie that hyung sees right through. He insists on checking me over once before we head back to bed, pulling me to my feet before feeling the way I curl into him and tightening his grasp over my shoulders. Soreness hits my legs, and my bad knee throbs in response to the sound that claws its way out of my throat when I put weight on my right leg. Hwa hyung silently pulls me even closer when I refuse his offer to pick me up. My legs wobble, but we finally manage to stumble over to the bed and flop over each other, instinctively tangling legs and fingers until we’re sharing breaths under plush blankets, the rainbow display of the building across the road suddenly lighting up and filtering into the room. Seonghwa hyung lifts his free hand up to trace my jawline, pressing a kiss to my ear that makes my already tingly insides go even fuzzier, and I melt further into him, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

Sleep is floating into me, and I protest against it, too scared of a repeat from earlier, but Hwa hyung murmurs a gentle, “sleep Sannie, you’re safe here,” and I drift off to my boyfriend tenderly pressing kisses into my hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all im so sorry i meant to update this wednesday but writer's block is a bitch and honestly im so busy its not even funny anymore. i'll try to keep updating 2x a week but i might have to reduce that if this keeps happening. this week i probs won't post until sunday bc im literally busy for every hour of the day but anyway! im so sorry i keep ending chapters with san or hwa falling asleep but i literally am so bad at endings!
> 
> also comments/kudos r like my motivation to get through the day and write instead of sleep so if yall wanna comment literally anything from a grammatical mistake to a compliment or whatever, i'd appreciate it! thx!


	15. Horny Mornin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg? no TWs? just wholesome-  
> oh wait no i decided to go the other way from angst lmaoooo  
> (its not smut tho dw for the children)

I groan as my alarm goes off, slamming the button blindly and flopping out of bed after I disentangle my legs from Hwa hyung’s. We haven’t slept together in a while, and I forgot that the last time we did was before my sleep schedule went even further than hell. 

“Sannie?” Hyung’s voice is deeper than usual, sleep clouding the words as he pats the bed and pouts. “Please come back, you’re warm,” he whines, and I almost dive back under the covers. _Almost._

“Hyung, I can’t, I need to go work out.” My knees are twinging, having fallen on them multiple times barely three hours ago when I panicked in the bathroom. 

“You’re already so pretty, so strong, so perfect. Pleaaaase?” I forgot that hyung is literally a petulant child in this state. Nonetheless, I peck him gently on the forehead and shove Shiber into his outstretched arms. He sniffs it deeply before sighing and falling back asleep. Meanwhile, I grab my keys, get dressed, and head out for a run.

The city is just rumbling to life at 5 AM, the air crisp and clean. My tank top does little to protect me from the lingering chill, but I warm quickly as I set a comfortably exhausting pace, heading towards the track that lies two miles from our apartment. My knee brace fits snugly against my leg, a last thought because I really can’t risk being too injured for regionals. 

I lose myself in the beat of my music, a steady tempo to match the sound of the bag holding my spikes shifting around in my hand. Thankfully, the shoes still fit after two years of inactivity on the track team, but I’ve gotten back into running lately as a way to just let myself be. 

This early, there’s only a few of the more dedicated runners running laps, so I drag my old blocks out and tie my spikes, fully prepared for sprints. I’ve set my watch stopwatch button so that I can slam it easily the moment I cross the line, and I set off, allowing the wind to stream over my body, holding my head high and picking my legs up with practiced strides.

I slam the stopwatch as soon as I finish the 100 meter, happy with the time. 12.7 seconds isn’t my best, but it’s better than I thought it’d be.

Continuing like this until the sun is well into the sky, I run back to the apartment in time for a quick shower and change. 

But Seonghwa hyung calls me over to his room before I can get ready. 

“Babe, can we try something today? I want to do something kind of risky to gauge Daehyun’s reaction, but only if you’re okay with it!” he asks the moment I get in there in my boxers and a towel. 

“Uh sure?” I respond, taken aback by the vague request. Hyung simply holds up a hoodie and choker in response.

“Can you wear this today? If Dae’s really working for my parents, then he’ll recognize it,, and then I can prove to them that I don’t give a fuck about what they think. And, it’ll protect you from everyone else because it’s pretty obviously mine.”

I squint closer at the choker, but shrug and drop my towel to grab the black hoodie, a watercolor rainbow pattern dripping down the sleeves. Hyung’s eyes immediately go down, and I pull the oversized hoodie down as far as I can, embarrassed. I silently reach for the choker, dropping my jaw when I finally get a good look at it.

It’s leather, as most of our chokers are, but criss-crossed with a diamond-studded silver and another gold chain that holds a dainty rendition of the hanja for Seonghwa at the center. It practically oozes wealth, the fine details holding an air in themselves. 

I slip it on, Hwa hyung helping me with the clasp, pressing a kiss right above it. Walking over to look in the mirror, I shiver as I finger the charm. “Hyung, it’s so pretty,” I murmur.

“Yeah, babe, can you go put pants on before I decide that you look too fuckable and actually do something before school?” Seonghwa hyung immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, mortified as his thoughts slip out. I giggle as he turns a deep red, moving over to him and kissing him hard. It’s not my fault that hyung looks really, really good in skinny jeans and a leather jacket. 

He groans into the kiss, pressing his hands against my back. Lower. “Don’t taunt me, Sannie,” he growls against my lips, and I arch into him as he leaves my lips, baring my neck subconsciously. 

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this, Sannie, wearing my clothes, my name around your neck. And I know that you know,” He rolls his hips against mine, and a stuttered plea falls from my lips. “that you’re mine.” 

“Hyung,” I whimper out, head falling back against the wall behind us. I pause for a second as memories wash over me, but hyung’s hands are merciless, roving in places they definitely should not on a Thursday morning before school, and I let him control where we go, head full of nothing but Hwa hyung. But I’m missing those lips, the strawberry-tinted lip gloss he has on right now.

“Please, hyung, please,” He chuckles lowly at my pleas, driving me further against the wall. 

“What, Sannie?” His breath is hot across my cheek as he leans over me. 

“Want you, hyung,” is all I can get out before his lips are pressed against mine with bruising force, my mouth automatically allowing in the tongue that circles mine before disappearing. I whine again at the loss of contact before I feel lips on my neck, just above my collarbone. 

“Can you say it, babe? That you’re mine?” He looks up at me, drawing me in with his gaze and I utter the words softly. His hands are gone from their grip on my hips, and I whine again,but he tips my chin up.

“Say it, Sannie. You’re _mine._ ” On anyone else, the possessiveness in that sentence would make me horribly uncomfortable, but with Hwa hyung it makes me feel safe, like a promise of protection.

“I-I’m yours, hyung.”

“Good boy.” Heat coils in my gut at the affirmation, and I groan lightly. Hyung chuckles, pressing kisses up my neck, giving words of praise between each one. Seonghwa’s leg has wedged it’s way between mine, and presses hard against the bulge tenting my boxers. 

The sound I make when he drops to his knees in front of me can only be described as filthy. “Hyung, you don’t have to…” I mutter, suddenly shy.

The only response is a silent question of confirmation in his eyes as he tugs my boxers down gently. I nod fervently, my hand padding through his soft hair, and close my eyes at the first hint of heat around me. 

If Hongjoong hyung hears anything, he doesn’t comment on it. And if we’re just slightly late to class that day, no one has to know why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so i had a lil more free time today than expected bc i decided to procrastinate my homework! so here's another chapter even if its a bit shorter than normal, and idk when i'll update in the next week but yeah!


	16. This Isn't Just a Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW bullying, injury, smut but like pg-13

I don’t know how Daehyun manages to get me apart from Hwa hyung, but I’m slammed into a locker in an empty hallway before I can react. Even two days of being ignored have helped the bruises fade, but the aching, constant bruise that’s been patched over my shoulder reignites as I let out an undignified yelp. 

“What was that stunt you pulled yesterday?” He hisses in my ear. I remain silent, but he shakes me harshly. 

“What are you now, Seonghwa’s little bitch? Get on your knees for him every day, don’t you?” Tears form in my eyes at the instigation, and my knees bark at the impact when I’m forced to the floor. A punch to my cheek with sharp rings splits open skin, and I can feel blood trickling out.

“Get the _fuck_ away from him.” I nearly whimper at Hongjoong hyung’s voice, and a hand guides me upward. I flinch away before I realize that it’s Hwa hyung and I’m safe. He folds me into his arms, holding me tightly. 

“You alright, San?” he asks quietly while the rest chew out Daehyun’s crew. 

Lifting my arm, I wince as my shoulder twinges, my knee pounding once again, and just shake my head, shrugging slightly as his eyes narrow. 

“You’re hurt.” It’s not even a question, and he holds me at arms length, tuned into my movement enough to realize that way I favor my left leg, the way my left shoulder droops just a bit more than normal. 

“I’m calling Mx. Kim, you’re not teaching today.” There’s finality in his voice, but I bite my lip, pouting up at him. Logically, hyung can’t stop me, but I silently beg him anyway, and he relents as I was expecting. 

“Fine, but please be careful, okay? I worry about you.” Hyung kisses me gently, and I ignore the disgusted noise that Daehyun makes before Jongho casually splits an apple in front of him and he shuts up.

I feel tears trickling out of my eyes suddenly, blinking up to try to hide them. Seonghwa kisses them away, guiding me out of the corridor and grabbing my bag. “We’re heading home, okay? Dance isn’t until 7 tonight, and it’s shorter, so we can have some alone time because, you know, Spring Break starts tomorrow? You’re teaching at 8:30, but you have dance with us at 6, so we can go back home around 9:30, does that sound good?” 

I nod silently, letting him babble through the entire trip back to our apartment. “San, you haven’t talked since I found you, you ok?” Hwa hyung is looking at me, concerned, and I nod yes before shuffling into the studio, energy twitching under my skin. I know I’m ignoring him, but the very thought of speaking right now feels hard. 

“San?” I hear him call after me, but I simply connect to the speakers and _dance._ I don’t know how long it is, or how many songs I filter through, but I drop to my knees eventually, panting, and just let myself go.

I scream away my hurt, well aware of the fine points of pain edging my senses as I release all of my bottled up emotions. It’s unintelligible, and I gasp for breath, but something wrong feels like it’s on it’s way to being righted. A weight has been lifted off my chest, and a small smile forms on my face. 

“San! Let me in, please!” Hwa hyung’s voice breaks, and my euphoria drops. I get up on aching legs to open the door, immediately getting a once over as soon as the door opens before I’m gripped tight enough that it’s hard to breathe, but it’s Hwa hyung, and he’s crying, and-

He’s crying. 

“Hyung?” I whisper, hugging him back gently. “Hwa hyung, what’s wrong?” He doesn’t respond, choosing to hold me even tighter.. 

“Can I… can I borrow a hoodie, Sannie?” His voice is so broken, exhausted and my heart aches because I really haven’t been taking into account how much this is hurting him.

“Yeah, come on. Do you want me to get Joongie hyung, too?” He shakes his head, and I press a kiss to his neck. Leading him to my room, I pull him into my closet and let him pull down my favorite NCT sweatshirt. He crosses over to my window and wordlessly leans against it, shoulders shaking as he cries silently. I grab a blanket and head over to him, wrapping it around the two of us and guiding him to sit down. He goes without protest, and I hug him tightly, kissing away his tears as best as I can from the side. 

“You wanna talk about it, hyung?” I whisper, and when I don’t receive a response, I snuggle into his side. 

“I- you were _screaming,_ Sannie.” It’s quiet, but I look down. “Hyung, I’m sorry, there was something I needed to get off my chest, I shouldn’t have worried you-”

“Yeah but… but Sannie you didn’t talk for a good three hours, right? And- and then suddenly you were screaming and you were sad right before and I wasn’t just worried, I was fucking terrified,” he continues, and I shut up as he rants for a good hour. He stops crying about midway through, his voice scratchy, but I rub his back and let him get it out. 

“-and I’ve always told you that I love you, Sannie, but I don’t think you heard me ‘cause you’ve always been sleeping. But I love you.” He finishes his monologue, turning to me and pressing a kiss to my forehead. 

“I love you too, hyung.” It honestly feels like something just settles inside me. His lips move down to mine, and then we’re kissing, and it’s sad and happy and so much more because _he loves me_. He tugs gently at the bottom of my shirt, nipping at my jaw as he does, and I pull it off while he takes his own off. And then my bare back hits the window and hyung is sliding his way down my chest, suckling gently in a way that I know will bruise tomorrow but I don’t care because I need this, I need to feel safe. And I think hyung needs this too, because he needs to know that I’m safe. 

“I love you Hwa hyung,” I gasp out as he moves back up to my neck, licking a thin stripe up the side before sucking marks into it. 

“Me too, let’s get you in bed, hm?” He picks me up effortlessly, not breaking contact with my lips until he pushes me onto the bed, straddling my legs with half a thought. 

“Hyung, please,” I whine as he rolls his hips against mine, tongue slipping in and out of my mouth.

“Tell hyung what you want, Sannie,” he says against my lips, one hand keeping my hips down while the other slides into my hair. 

“Want you, hyung, please,” I whimper. 

“How do you want me, Sannie,” his breath is hot across my neck, heat pooling in my gut at the sight of his swollen lips. “You want to have hyung in your mouth? Or you want me to actually fuck you?” I groan at his tone, tantalizing as he lightly palms me through my sweats. He slips off his pants, rubbing against my dick as he falls over me to get them off of his thighs. 

“Please, hyung, please, anything,” I whimper again, the sun casting a pretty picture across hyung’s nearly naked body. 

“Do we have time for both, babe?” I nod, not even bothering to actually think about it, and pull his boxers off the moment he gives me the go ahead. I slip him into my mouth, sucking gently and hollowing out my cheeks as best as I can. And then I’m gagging on him, eyes watering as he starts pounding in and out of my mouth. I moan around his dick, the vibrations shuddering through his body. 

“Gonna cum, Sannie,” he groans after a few minutes, pulling out of my mouth and flipping me over. 

And then it’s all lost in a haze, covered by a pleasant warmth as I scream hyung’s name into the pillows. 

\--------------------------------------------------

“Dude, how are you expecting those to fade by regionals?” Wooyoung snarks, and I blush lightly. Our costumes have arrived, and they’re great, but my neck is bright red and purple along one side. 

“I’ll just put on concealer, it’s fine,” I whine, slapping him. Since he’s been integrated more into our group, Woo has revealed his sarcasm, and honestly, he and Yeosang have become the terror twins of roasting all of us. 

“Or you could just put on like, a choker and only have to put makeup on some of it.” I nod at that suggestion from Yunho, adjusting the waistband of my pants. Practice goes on as normal, but in our costumes. 

Until Wooyoung falls to the ground, immediately cradling his arm right as the beat drops. Someone pauses the music, but I’ve slipped into leader mode, clearing everyone from the area and assessing him. 

“What hurts, Woo?” I ask as delicately as possible. 

“My elbow, I don’t know what happened,” he gasps, whimpering as I gently move his arm in different ways. 

“I don’t think you broke anything, you might have just overextended this. Take a complete break for today, maybe mark tomorrow, and hopefully you’ll be okay to perform for regionals, but if you’re not better by Sunday morning, we’re going to have to pull you.” I know everyone can hear the small sob he lets out. 

“I don’t want to sit out of the comp, please, I promise I’ll be able to perform.” I hold up a hand as he takes a breath to continue, sitting him up into my lap. 

“I know, Wooyoungie, but your health comes first,” I explain to him. 

“Can someone grab ice, bandages, and a stool or something short that we can put on the bench so he can elevate his elbow?” I call, hearing three distinct responses before turning my attention back to the hurting boy in my lap. Hongjoong hyung kneels besides the boy, shushing him gently. 

“Woo, you’ll be okay. I promise.” His voice holds no argument, and I nod, petting his hair. The boys get back with the stuff I asked for, and I wrap his elbow as best as I can from this position, instructing him to hold the ice on for at least ten minutes before he takes it off. 

We resume practice, all of us shooting glances at Wooyoung when we’re not center. He’s dried his tears, but the way his shoulders slump whenever he is supposed to be center makes me feel ridiculously bad, and I let everyone go twenty minutes early. Honestly, it looks pretty good. The little kids come in bubbling as always, jumping all over Hwa hyung where he sits in the corner, and I smile. He’s always been good with kids, and watching him interact with the five year olds is adorable. He looks so soft, content to squish their cheeks and tickle their stomachs.

“San-nim, what’s on your neck?” Seonghan asks, and I blush deeply as Hwa sends me a look. 

“I, uh, I slept really weirdly on my neck…” I explain, spluttering. Mx. Kim tuts loudly from outside, and I blush even more, shooing the kids off into their spots. 

“Okay, guys, you remember what we did last time? We’re going to do it again in smaller groups, and Seonghwa is going to judge. The winner will get candy, so do your best!” I clap my hands together, and they all liven up even more at the competition. 

I do end up giving them all candy because I definitely cannot resist twenty little pouty faces. 

And we go home, and I head straight to the home studio before a hand on my wrist stops me. “C’mere for just one second, San-ah.” I dissent, but Hwa hyung isn’t letting me pull away, dragging me back to the living room. The lights are all off, but I can see a faint glow from the kitchen. 

I yelp slightly, stumbling backwards when the lights suddenly flash on, everyone jumping out from behind the couch to yell “Surprise!”

“What-?” I rack my brain for any special occasion, but all that comes up is regionals and my and Hwa hyung’s anniversary in like three days. 

“Dude, it’s your birthday?” I cock my head, confused, before Hwa hyung shoves his phone calendar in my face. A smile erupts across my face when I see that it’s March 12th, and hyung has my birthday marked with enough emojis that it’s nearly unintelligible.

“Can’t believe he forgot his own birthday, what kind of dumbass does that?” I hear muttering, and I whip my head around.

“Yah, who said that!” The smile never leaves my face, but the slight uptilt of Yeosang’s lips clues me in, and I leap over the back of the couch to tackle him. 

“Yeosang! You’ve known me forever, I can’t believe you’d betray me like this!” He giggles, and we both break into a fit of laughter. 

“Happy birthday, Sannie!” Everyone choruses as Joong hyung comes out of the kitchen holding a cake. 

“Wait, I need to record this!” Hwa hyung cries out, and I submit myself to getting frosting smeared across my cheeks. We settle down quickly, all of us exhausted, and clear space in the middle of the living room to sit, eating cake and generally having a good time. I’m sitting in Hwa hyung’s lap, and Wooyoung has his arm up on Yeosang’s shoulder. Seonghwa has been resolutely feeding me pieces of cake and pizza.

“Hyung, I’m full,” I whine after a slice of pizza and a small piece of cake. I’m not actually, I haven’t had time to eat all day, but regionals are in two days and I can’t afford to gain anything now. 

“No you’re not, you didn’t eat lunch,” Jongho reminds me from across the circle, and I glare at him as hyung tsks lightly. 

“Eat.” Hwa nudges my mouth open, and I let him feed me more, content to just relax into his hoodie and open my mouth when he taps my jaw. I can feel myself slipping out of control, and I cuddle further into hyung’s lap.

“Sannie, you want to go to bed? We’re going to play truth or dare and maybe watch a movie, but no pressure,” he whispers, oblivious to the cheeky looks my friends are giving us. 

“Seonghwa’s whipped~” Wooyoung sing-songs from the other side of the circle. Seonghwa hyung throws a slipper his way, and I pull my hood over my head, rubbing my eyes as I try to blink away my headspace. Seonghwa coos at me, but I face the group, leaning back to kiss his cheek.

“Anyway, truth or dare, San-ah?” 

“Dare.” It slips out as I make dead eye contact with Yeosang and he smirks in my direction. I meant to pick truth. I meant to pick truth. _I meant to pick tru-_

“Ooh, looks like San finally decided to be risky!” Yunho calls from the other side of the circle. I grab hyung’s hand tightly, willing myself strength to get through whatever stupid thing they’re going to make me do. 

“Give Seonghwa hyung a lap dance. At least, hm, a minute?” I really don’t know why Yeosang (and the rest of my friends, for that matter) insist on doing these things, but I sigh and get up, wincing at a twinge from my knee as my spine cracks in several places. 

“If it hurts, don’t do it, San,” Seonghwa mutters to me, but I wave him off and motion for him to sit. Someone starts playing Versace on the Floor, as cliche as it is, and I close my eyes, allowing myself to sensualize the beats. And then I move, stripping off my hoodie to reveal the skin tight shirt I was dancing in, revealing a sliver of skin along my stomach. Well, it’s really not a sliver, more like a solid four or five inches, but nonetheless, I can feel Hwa’s stare directly at me. Walking over to him and straddling his lap, I look at him with half-lidded eyes, pressing a featherlight kiss to his lips. He leans into it just as I pull away, and I feel him chasing me even as I drop into a perfect middle split, my hands on the insides of his thighs. I smirk at the tent forming in his pants, brushing against it teasingly before pulling myself up to kiss him properly, rolling my hips down. He growls, canting his hips up, but I push them down with a hand.

“And that’s a minute! God save our eyes!” Yeosang yells, and Hwa hyung blushes a deep red at the pointed glance downwards, but I pull him down to the floor, resuming my position on his lap after putting my hoodie back on. 

“Well now it’s my turn. Joong hyung?” I ask, challenging him with my eyes.

“Dare.” Hongjoong is our other friend that normally only picks truth, but I shrug and think of one anyway. 

“Uh, you’re legal, right?” At his nod, I continue. “Okay, so I dare you to go chug a bottle of soju.” He pales slightly, and I laugh because I’m well aware of his absolutely shit tolerance. 

“San, I’m going to kill you in the morning,” he mutters jokingly, but gets up and does it anyway. I glance at my watch, cuddling back into Hwa hyung as everyone continues. 

“Babe, you want to go sleep in your bed?” Hwa hyung whispers once he notices me yawning. I shake my head, smiling softly at my friends while they play around. 

It's been so long since I saw everyone completely happy and carefree. We're always carrying some internal burden, but I think everyone has finally let go of theirs, even just for a few hours. I see it in the way Hongjoong hyung isn't constantly searching around, making sure he knows all the exits. In the way Yunho has draped himself across Yeosang's lap, content to finally belong. In the way Yeosang is fondly smiling at both Yun and Woo, not assessing anyone or anything as a potential threat to run from. In the way Wooyoung is finally comfortable enough with us that he's massaging Yeosang's sore back, that unspeakably large weight always making him curl inwards on himself finally disappearing. In the way Jongho is entranced in singing, with his whole heart, not just the part that he lets everyone see.

In the way Seonghwa hyung absentmindedly rubs through my hair, allowing himself to love and to be loved, less afraid of losing everyone.

In the way I'm just happy with my friends and my boyfriend, actually letting myself be tired or whiny or _vulnerable._

Nonetheless, as my eyes begin to slip shut of their own accord, I pinch my wrist to stay awake, not wanting this moment to end. I think Hwa hyung catches it, but he doesn't comment. He stands up, carrying me fully, and I whine, but he deposits us both on the couch. "Frozen?"Wooyoung asks, and the vehement nods from my friends mean that they're obviously going to be singing along, loud. 

I manage to turn around in hyung's lap, snuggling deeper into his hoodie from a new angle. It smells like Hwa hyung, a winter day infused into the threads. Someone throws a blanket over the two of us, and I'm cocooned in warmth, the gentle hands rubbing through my hair and on my back pulling me to sleep. 

I'm struggling against it, fighting a losing battle, but Seonghwa just presses a kiss to my hair, leaning down to press our foreheads together. 

"Baby, sleep, we'll still be here when you wake up."

And that echoes in my head as I succumb to the darkness, surrounded by people I love. 

_We'll still be here when you wake up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is 4AM here and I just finished editing this so I don't even know if it's legible to be quite honest. I am also so so so so so so so sorry for not updating all of last week. Things were just piling up and it was really hard.
> 
> But yes! I am officially a varsity athlete! Our season officially started! The downside is that I might be kind of busy... I'll write a ton over Spring Break, though, and we don't actually have much school this week, so expect an update or two by next Monday.
> 
> On another note, WHY DOES THIS HAVE 500 HITS?!?!?! I was not prepared for that like what the heck yall! Thank you!!!!


	17. Last Day Before Regionals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to apologize really quickly for anyone that was triggered by chapter 14. Someone pointed out that I forgot to put a TW for the r-word at the beginning. I take full responsibility for my mistake, and I promise I have absolutely no malicious intent towards anyone. It just slipped my mind at 3AM (when I posted) because I normally write TWs after I finish the chapter and just write them in the notes, so I forget what happens in the chapters sometimes or I don't read it super closely, but that's not an excuse and I shouldn't have forgotten. I know how icky it feels to be called that, and I had a hard time even writing it, so I should have noticed and put a TW in. Still, I'm really sorry and I hope y'all can forgive me. I'll be more careful in the future. 
> 
> ~~
> 
> TW: injury (nothing too graphic I promise), and a small mental spiral

The next morning, I slip out of Hwa hyung’s embrace as quietly as possible. He stays asleep through me bustling around my room to grab my running stuff, but I freeze when I see the entirety of Ateez camped out in the living room, blocking the path to the door. If I’m not careful, I’m going to wake them all up. I scamper through an obstacle course of limbs, careless feet thrown everywhere, a few pointed even in their sleep, and shut the door as quietly as I can. A sudden wave of dizziness overtakes me, and I sit down, breathing hard for a few moments before the world rights itself. I get back up, ignoring the unnatural heat I feel, and run down the stairs and the two blocks to the track. 

When I get back, sweating and panting, everyone is eating breakfast, so I go and shower while they eat their waffles. As soon as I step in my room half-dressed, towel slung around my shoulders, I see Hwa hyung still curled up around my pillow. I suppress a smile; it’s typical of him to sleep in until the last minute. 

“Hyung, we have a full day of practices and lessons, get up,” I call, shaking him. He groans, cracking an eye open before burying his face back into the pillow. “I will not hesitate to rip this blanket off of you, hyung.” He bolts up at the threat, slowly slipping over the other side of the bed to stand up.

I don’t miss the bruises peppering his knees. 

“Hyung, are you okay?” I ask, stopping him from moving as soon as I see a small wince. 

“Ah, I’ll be fine, Sannie, just bruises from the dance.” I nod slowly, my brain running as I try and figure out where he could have possibly gotten them. Our routine has maybe one or two parts with knee stuff, but they’re not intensive for his part specifically. By the time I whirl around to call him out, he’s already gone. I throw on a new pair of sweats and a hoodie, throwing on a necklace and some earrings to go with it, trying to pass off the unease growing in my gut at the sight of those dark purple marks on hyung’s legs. 

Dance is exhausting as normal, and with only one day until regionals, we’re going full out. Wooyoung’s elbow has improved, so he joins us, but my attention is on Hwa hyung through the mirror. Every time he lets out a slight gasp of pain, just a little bit louder than a normal panting breath, I prepare to catch him should he collapse.

We all fall to the floor during our break, but I walk over to Seonghwa, dragging him closer to the mirror and away from everyone else. My headache has started again with the thrumming music, but I figure I’ll just take medicine when we get home and it will be fine.

“Hyung, you’re hurt.” I try to stay quiet, but I see Joong hyung look towards the two of us. I shake my head gently at his silent request to come over, and turn back to Hwa. He’s looking down, and I wrap him in my arms, pulling him down to lay in my lap. 

“Hyung, please tell me what’s wrong,” I beg him, beginning to wind my fingers through his hair. He sighs, leaning closer to the touch, before talking. 

“I’m just practicing a lot, I promise there’s nothing to worry about.” I frown at his tense voice, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Those long weeks of falling asleep alone, feeling the vibrations through the floor of someone dancing, falling, getting back up. 

“That’s what you were doing for those two weeks when you didn’t sleep in my room?” He nods, and I make a noise of sympathy, reaching down to probe at his knees while he’s distracted. He winces when I poke at particularly sore spots, but remains silent as I assess his condition. 

“Guys, Hwa’s going to sit out for a couple runs, and I’m just going to monitor, but the rest of you get two more minutes of break,” I announce, Joong hyung immediately disappearing, probably getting ice. He returns less than a minute later, tossing two bags of ice at me, and I arrange them over hyung’s knees.

“Sannie-ah, I can still dance,” Hwa hyung mumbles from my lap, but I know that it’s more reflex. I pat his head in silent affirmation that yes, he will be sitting out, and he sighs, pushing his head up into my hand as I continue to comb out the tangled strands. My legs ache more the longer I sit down.

Everyone else gets back into position and I bark out corrections while they dance. Thankfully, it’s mostly smaller issues like angles. I can feel my legs falling asleep under hyung’s weight, but I bear through the prickling feeling as I see hyung’s eyes drift shut. 

Perhaps more frustrating than the almost painful tingles is the fact that regionals are literally tomorrow and we have two injured members. I’m really hoping they can push through, and we might just take a week off of practice after instead of returning to our already rigorous schedule. Right now, we’ve been practicing every day for several hours as preparation for this competition, but normally we only practice two or three times as Ateez per week. Of course, if we make it here, then it’s two weeks until states, and then nationals a month after that, so the schedule won’t get any easier. Still, sometimes I really regret leading three teams while taking and teaching so many classes.

And now everyone I care about is getting hurt. Of course, it’s my fault. Ms. Kim saw my scheduled plans for Ateez right after I got injured and gave me a warning to be careful, but I ignored it in favor of pushing harder, faster, and now everything is falling apart. As much as I want to blame someone else, blame them for being tired or not being sharp enough, I know how much they’re hurting right now. I see half of them holding their waists tightly when they think no one’s paying attention, backs aching from bending and hitting the floor hard. Or Yunho’s slight limp that’s persisted since he landed a bit weird on a flip last week, something he waves off every time someone asks him about it. I have no choice but to trust him, to trust everyone to come to me, but obviously none of them do. 

It’s a combination of the fact that they’re all walking on eggshells around me, scared I’m going to get hurt again, and the fact that I’m really just a horrible leader. I can’t dance well, I can’t stick up for myself or for the rest of them, and I keep bothering them with things I should handle myself. My parents were right when they said I would end up worth nothing and forgotten by the people who I loved. _It’s my fault._

“San-hyung? Did you hear us?” It’s Jongho near me, the rest of the team looking over while they take sips of water. I shake my head almost imperceptibly, bringing myself out of my inner spiral, before repeating the movement again a bit bigger to symbolize that _no, I didn’t hear because I’m the worst leader ever._ A spike of pain accompanies the movement, and I reach up to rub at the back of my neck in an attempt to soothe the tightening muscles there.

I guess Jongho repeats the question, but I can barely make it out. My head is spinning, and I hear the words, but they don’t process. I assume it’s something about the run through they just did.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I lost focus, I’ll be better this time,” I mutter, moving to restart the music. A hand stops my movement. 

“San, are you ok?” Someone asks as my vision begins to blur, and I wave them away. “I’m fine, let’s keep going.”

“We were asking about lunch, hyung, not running the routine again.” Jongho’s the only one who calls me hyung, that has to be him. 

“Babe?” Seonghwa’s voice is groggy from sleep, but his conscious presence settles over me like a blanket, clearing my mind just a bit. 

“I’m okay, I promise, my head’s just bothering me a bit,” I explain. “Yeah, let’s get lunch.” 

I don’t miss the worried glances shot my way, but I ignore them in favor of helping Seonghwa hyung up. He wobbles a bit, finally letting his pain show now that we all know, and I wrap one of his arms around my shoulder, Yeosang taking up the other side. We get to the bench, and I make him wait while we leave quickly to get food from the place next door. I’m even more concerned about his condition now. If he can’t walk from a few bruises, then this has to have been going on for longer than just a week, and is definitely something we need to talk about after regionals. 

I stop halfway back, motioning for the rest of the team to go back without me. “I’m going to get some air,” I tell them, but really the world began rotating again the moment I got up. I take large gulps of outdoor air, lowering my mask to feel the gentle breeze on my face. 

It seems to help, because the confusion and pain disappear. Whatever is going on stays at bay through the rest of practice, and I let us out earlier than we had planned. On a normal day, I wouldn’t; the day before regionals, I most definitely should not, but everyone is hurting, and pushing more right now is going to create more problems tomorrow. 

“Wooyoung, make sure to ice and stretch your elbow. Jongho and Yunho, take care of your ankles tonight. Joong hyung, please don’t stay up late, and watch your back. Yeosang, you need to stretch out your hamstrings and quads, I know they always get tight, and you need to be gentle with your back, too. Hwa hyung,” I pause as he looks up at me from his current position with his head pillowed on my thighs. “Hwa hyung, I’ll take care of you tonight.”

“Get however freaky you want with your “taking care” of hyung, but don’t be too sore tomorrow,” Wooyoung snarks, and I blush. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” I whine, punching his uninjured arm lightly. “But in all seriousness, stretch and ice and whatever else you need tonight, because tomorrow is regionals.” 

“Alright, team chant!” Yeosang shouts, and we all form a blob-ish shape in the middle of the studio, stacking our hands atop one another. 

“7 makes one team! Ateez!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's my last day of school before spring break! I'll probably post another chapter by Monday/Tuesday if I have time. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos/hits! I continue to be shocked because the numbers are just increasing and my writing isn't that great imo, but I really appreciate y'all sticking with me.


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